Duty and Honour
by darthsydious
Summary: Matthew, wounded at Verdun, is sent home. He struggles with memories of the war, and as he attempts to realize Mary won't admit her feelings, finds new ones surfacing for Sybil.
1. Chapter 1

**August, 1916**

"We're so happy for you darling." Cora pressed her youngest daughter's cheek, "You've made us very proud."

"Thank you mama."

"Matthew," Cora kissed him next, "Welcome to the family again."

"Thank you, Mama." He offered a smile to her, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, clearly thinking of his own mother who couldn't be there. Robert bent, kissing Sybil gently.

"I'm very proud of you dear," he said, then leaned lower to whisper in her ear, squeezing her arm "Well done, my girl."

"Thank you papa." He pressed her cheek as well, before grasping Matthew's hand, giving it a firm shake.

"Sir."

"My son." Robert said, and Matthew smiled at this, embracing him. He had always assumed he would become Lord Grantham's son-in-law. Just not this way. Not married to Sybil. Not that she was awful. Just not the one he truly loved. That was what duty was though, wasn't it?

_Chapter One_

**May, Months Earlier**

The war was far from over, but Matthew was sent home, having lost his left arm in battle. The surgeon who had removed it had done a neat enough job, removing the infected limb, severing it just below the elbow. Once he was well enough to travel, Lord Grantham was sent word and met him at the station. Matthew had almost expected, rather hoped, that Mary would be there as well. Instead, it was Sybil at her father's side, waiting in the car at her father's orders as the station was packed with soldiers and nurses and families, Robert could barely get through. Once Matthew was deposited in the car, Lord Grantham returned to the packed station to find the luggage.

"We couldn't let you come home alone." She said

"Who drove?" Matthew asked, "Branson is away too isn't he?"

"I drove."

"_You_?" she nodded

"It isn't very hard, I learned just after the war broke out and I started volunteering as a nurse. They needed people to drive ambulances from London to hospitals, so as soon as I could, I started driving. It just takes getting used to. We thought the car would be an easier ride for you than the carriage."

"It will be thank you." Matthew said. He paused, feeling an awkward silence settle between them.

"Mary is in Italy." Sybil said at last, saving him from having to ask what weighed so heavily on his mind. "She went away a year or so ago. We did send her a telegram when you wrote to us, but we haven't received any word from her."

"Is…is she working there?" Matthew asked. Sybil looked at him, eyes tired and weary already from the subject of Mary.

"No."

"Oh." He said, the word feeling hollow, and not at all the meaningful phrase he wanted to say to give some comfort to Sybil. "Well…I didn't expect-"

"I would have." Sybil interrupted. "It's wretched of her to avoid us all like this. It's even more dreadful that it's got nothing to do with the effort."

"You mustn't say that about your sister." He cautioned, unused to the youngest Crawley speaking harshly. He could tolerate it from Mary and Edith, but not her.

"It's true." She said. "She's behaved abominably ever since that Turkish man died. Edith at least is away and married, so she doesn't see how upset Mama is."

"Your mother, yes, how is she?"

"Tired." Sybil replied, "She has been visiting the factories in Downton, sometimes those in London too, and helping organize all the scrap metal drives she can muster. Papa had to keep her from tearing apart the cars. We only use the one if people are coming to the house, which are always few and far between nowadays."

"Have you heard any news about William?" he asked, "I haven't had a letter or a telegram from anybody, and I mentioned him to anyone I could. All they told me was that he might be in another hospital." He and William were together up until Verdun. They'd been separated on the field, and were taken to different hospitals. That was the extent of what anyone seemed to know of the young footman. "I tried to tell them it was important." Matthew said, obviously blaming himself for losing the young man.

"You mustn't feel guilty." Sybil said, "I can only imagine how confusing it must be on the front, how you ever keep anything straight must be all but impossible. Besides, William is clever, I'm sure he's doing well. Papa expects word any day."

"You _have_ heard from him?" relief shone in his eyes, a smile creeping upon his face.

"Oh yes, the doctor that worked on him read his tags, and sent us a letter. He isn't well enough to leave yet."

"Where is he?"

"France, somewhere." She said, "Not far from where the fighting is." Matthew nodded, he leaned back, relief sinking in before he became lost in thought. "Matthew?" he didn't seem to respond for a moment. "Matthew," he looked up suddenly "Are you alright?"

"Fine." He said, offering a smile. "Tired."

"Here it is at last," Robert called, Sybil made to step out of the car to help, "Never mind Sybil, the porter can help me. It's too heavy anyway." Robert said as he bolstered the drunk up onto the back of the car, strapping it down while Sybil climbed back into the driver's seat. She glanced up at Matthew in the rearview mirror, his eyes tired and rimmed in dark circles. By the time they pulled up to the front gate, he was sound asleep.

The servants had lined up for the return of the Downton Heir, though it was a far cry from what the staff used to look like. Of the men's staff, Carson and Bates remained, Bates because of his previous injury, Carson too old to be drafted. The same was true of the groundskeepers. Six of the fifteen maids had handed in their notices to work as nurses. Mrs. Hughes was told to remind each that their old post at Downton would be waiting for them when the war was over. Everyone looked tired, though as the car pulled up and the Crawley's stepped down, everyone seemed to brighten a little. A guest would mean some kind of distraction. Matthew would stay at Downton, as Crawley House was being used as a hospital.

Also waiting at the door to welcome him home was Sir Anthony and Edith Strallen, the Dowager Countess and Aunt Cora. Robert's dog Pharaoh came out, the only one seemingly untouched by the world's events. He barked until Sybil shut the engine off, the brake in place. Matthew had just stepped down, Cora already embracing him,

"Welcome home Matthew," she said, pressing a motherly kiss to his cheek, "It's so good to see you again." She held him at arm's length to look him over,

"Thank you," he said, and meant it. Edith stepped forward next, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and squeezing his good arm,

"We're so glad you're safe."

"Don't worry," he said, seeing her eyes glanced over his half-empty sleeve "I'm still all in one piece, mostly." He joked, grasping Sir Anthony's hand,

"Welcome home." Was all he said, though he looked as if he wanted to say more, but wasn't sure how to put it to someone he barely knew. Respect still shone in his eyes though, and everyone could see the old man looked proud of him. The Dowager Countess stood grandly on the steps in dark purple, a colour she had taken to wearing ever since word came that Matthew was badly wounded. _"We don't know if he's dead or not, horrible as that sounds. It's appropriate to prepare ourselves."_ Was her reason.

"It is good to see you safe." was all she said and gave her cheek for him to kiss. Matthew smiled then and did so, hugging her a little in the process. He turned to the line of servants, smiling and nodding to them.

"It's good to see you again Carson, Mrs. Hughes, you look well, and Bates-" he did a double take at the woman beside the valet "Why Anna, you look very fine indeed!" he noticed now the young woman's protruding belly now six months along, Bates smiled at his wife. Matthew turned accusingly to Robert and Cora "Why did no one tell me?"

"We wanted it to be a surprise." Sybil said, tugging off her driving gloves

"It's a good one," Matthew said, "Congratulations to you both, really, I'm very happy for you." And he shook Bates hand,  
>"Thank you sir."<p>

"Now I think we'd better go in," Cora said, "Mrs. Patmore promised that today's luncheon would be 'fit for a king'."

"And I'm famished." Matthew declared, "I intend to hold her to her words." So the group filed in, all merry over Matthew's safe return.

**That Afternoon**

"Why didn't Mary write to me after?" Sybil was halfway down the path to the garden when she heard Matthew speak; he'd heard her footfalls on the walk, just as she was passing him.

"I…thought that was between the two of you." She said, taken aback that he asked so bluntly. "I didn't think it right to ask. It wasn't my place." He looked over at her.  
>"She wrote to me once." He shrugged. "Telling me in her usual manner 'Oh Matthew, you know it would never work out between us. I must always have my way you know.'" Sybil looked uncomfortable. He looked up at her "Why does she lie to herself? Can't she read her own heart? Is it so incomprehensible for her to realize when she is happy unless she does something impossibly stupid?" Sybil shrugged then<p>

"Mary has had much to contend with. I suppose her feelings frightened her."

"And now I suppose I must become the heir to Downton Abbey." Sybil shifted uncomfortably.

"I thought you were." He gave a small laugh, remembering no one else had known but Mary.

"I had told Mary I was leaving Downton- that I would refuse to be the heir, I didn't want it."

"But you can't leave!" Sybil gasped, very much the reaction he expected. "You must stay here! It would break Papa to see it gone!" he sobered,

"Yes…it would. My duty to your father is as strong as my duty to my country. That I couldn't fulfill properly, but damn it this I should."

"You mustn't think that you failed at anything." Sybil sat beside him. "We're all immensely proud of you, and terribly glad you've come home safe." Her hand on his arm, he noticed a ring glittering on her first finger.

"What's that?" he asked, she pulled her hand away, but he caught her fingers, looking at the shining band glittering in the sunlight.

"It was from Branson." She said quietly, "Before he left." bowing her head, she took her hand back and turned the ring over and over.

"He proposed?" he asked, almost smiling, "You're going through with it?"

"There has been no proposal." She said simply, "He's left the army, for Ireland."

"What?"

"He heard of the things going on, the things being said. He wrote to me when he sent me this ring. It was his mother's; he told me he _had_ to be there for Easter, and that he knew he wouldn't see me again." Sybil cried a little "He said he loved me, but he couldn't leave his countrymen behind." She wiped her eyes "What about our countrymen? I asked him, 'What about Matthew and my father and William, and everyone who is fighting to end this stupid-" she stopped short, sighing angrily. Upset that she'd made herself appear so foolish.

"You _do_ love him." Matthew said, she nodded

"I do." She looked over at him "And you love Mary."

"Yes." They were silent. It occurred to Matthew the last time he was underneath this tree; it was the day the war broke out, and it was Mary beside him, unable to make a decision about her life. "Nothing is fair." He said at last. Sybil finally broke her gaze from the middle distance.

"If anything has taught us that, it's been this war." She sighed "But I refuse to feel tragic about everything. I'm not Mary." Standing up, she brushed her tears aside. "I'm going to the garden to help Mrs. Patmore, would you like to come?" he considered this for a moment, a little amazed at her determination not to mope about as many women might have done.  
>"Yes I will." He said, and got up, following her down the path, through the hedges to where Mrs. Patmore, Daisy and Bates were carefully tending the garden. Bates was painting a sign, seeing Sybil and Matthew; he rose quickly, nodding to them<p>

"Sir, Lady Sybil."

"How is it coming?" she asked,

"Very well your ladyship." Mrs. Patmore said, "Mr. Bates is just putting up a little artwork." Matthew looked over the valet's shoulder to see him putting the finishing touches on the sign

"Downton Abbey Victory Garden." He read aloud "Very nicely done Mr. Bates, did you stencil the letters?"

"Seemed the neatest way, mustn't be shirking in upholding the grandeur of the estate." He stood with a wince, soothing his bad leg with his free hand

"Shall I help put it up?" Matthew asked and the two of them set off to find a good spot.

They spent the day in the garden, working the soil, weeding out the beds. Sybil taught him how to thin the rows of carrots, and how to ever so gently nudge the radishes away from each other. As they worked, Matthew realized how easily everything seemed to drift away. In that peaceful afternoon, he almost forgot that Mary had not even bothered to see if her cousin was still alive. He found himself laughing between Mr. Bates and Mrs. Patmore, who had become inseparable while he was away, the valet often helped in the kitchen when he wasn't busy in his duties to Lord Grantham. The cook boasted of how he helped make stock every morning, prepare vegetables with her, or help with the evening dishes. According to Sybil, Mrs. Patmore was so excited with the prospect of a baby below stairs, took every opportunity to feed Anna, and praise Mr. Bates until the tips of his ears turned pink. Daisy, thought quiet and shy around Matthew, soon joined in the conversation, her cheeks rosy as she proclaimed that the Bates' baby would be the fattest, prettiest baby Downton ever saw.

"Excepting the ladies upstairs." She squeaked, suddenly aware she'd put a servants baby above the Earl's children.

"Never fear." Bates said. "She'll be beautiful alright."

"How do you know it's a girl?" Daisy asked.

"It will be." Bates said, with a knowing smile. Whatever the child turned out to be, he would be pleased either way. It was clear Sybil had spent much time with the servants, though they still addressed her as 'Lady Sybil', there was a warm familiarity between all of them, in the way they worked and talked. The afternoon drifted by, and Matthew was finding himself oddly pleased.

When at last Mrs. Patmore brushed her hands on her apron, declaring the work 'done enough' and that dinner had to be started; Matthew and Sybil gathered their things and started for the house.

"Thank you." He said,

"For what?"

"For letting me talk, for letting me help." He shrugged. "It's been too long since I've had such a peaceful day."

"It must have been so frightening in the trenches." She murmured, "I can't imagine."

"No." he said "And you mustn't either." She opened her mouth, but he stopped her, already knowing what she was about to say "I know you aren't like most ladies…fainting at the sight of blood and all that…but believe me when I say that you must not think of it. It's not something anyone should."

"I won't." she promised.

~O~

The next morning when Matthew went down to breakfast, he was surprised to see Sybil was already gone.

"Sybil? Oh yes, she was called away early this morning, heard her leave around- what was it Carson?"

"Five m'lord, before staff was even up." He seemed disgruntled that any of the family should need to be up before staff, especially since it meant Lady Sybil had to dress herself, and then leave without breakfast.

"Something at the hospital no doubt." Robert said, already finishing his first cup of tea. Matthew forgot she'd been working as a nurse since the war first started. She'd written to him, work was slow for a long time, until war came closer and closer to London, and hospitals started overflowing. Wounded poured into almost every neighboring village that could properly house them.

"How does she do?" Matthew asked

"Very well. Hard work is nothing to her. She's fortunate she doesn't turn at the sight of blood."

"What about Edith? Doesn't she work there?"

"No, she's campaigning, helping sell war bonds. Better stomach for sales than the surgeon's room." He said, and Matthew smiled a little. "If you like, Cora is going to make her rounds at the hospital later today, I'm sure she wouldn't mind the company."

"Thank you, I think I will."

He took a walk around the grounds, when he noticed Robert close behind. He stopped, letting him catch up.

"Wanted to see how you were, you're not tired are you?"

"I think I always will be." Matthew said with a shrug. He was looking around the grounds. "I'm unused to seeing so much untouched greenery."

"Take it in while you can. I'm demanding the hospital send its victims here, Downton is big enough, the men in the hospital are overflowing; in a day or so they'll be brought here once we have all the beds put up. Here they can get proper sun and fresh air, recuperate in comfort."

"Certainly thanks to Mrs. Patmore, have a proper meal." Matthew said, "Why haven't they used Downton Abbey before?"

"They did at the start, and then there was a lull. But this latest skirmish is lasting longer than anyone anticipated and more and more men are filling up hospitals and homes. Downton has been empty for long enough. It's my duty and right to help those boys, and I'll see that they get it." They stood underneath the willows, looking over the house, the seemingly endless manicured lawns and well-trimmed hedges. It was true; those sent here to mend would certainly have an easier time of it.

**Later- afternoon**

Cora and Matthew visited the two large factories that Downton housed; she seemed impervious to the dust and dirt, the noise and endless machinery didn't seem to bore her. She looked on in some fascination, eager to see how much progress had gone on since she had last visited.

"How often do you make your rounds?" Matthew asked above the din, a man held open the door to him, tipping his hat to Matthew. Honorably discharged from the army, it was still his patriotic duty to wear his uniform until the war was over.

"Two or three times a week if I can manage." She said, tugging on her gloves. She didn't wear a fur stole or lace nonsense. Her suit was of sturdy wool, cut in the latest fashion, they called it a hobble skirt, but it didn't seem to impede her determined stride. Elegant even in grey, Lady Grantham held her head high, asked questions and shook hands with the foremen and workers who answered them for her. She had been there enough to know many of the workers by name, and some of their families. She took care to ask after each man's son who was fighting, or how their daughters were getting on. If someone had recently lost family, she made a note to send letters, and see about finding them groceries for the week. "It isn't much," she said to Matthew in a low voice as they stepped out of the factory into the sun, "but if it eases one thing off their minds, then I'm glad to do it, I know Robert would like to do more, but everyone is struggling now." He touched her elbow, a little surprised "Oh good heavens no, nothing like that Matthew." She shook her head, "We're not in dire straits, we won't be for a long time yet, it's just that everything costs dearly. I don't remember the last time we had beef. Sybil suggested buying cows, I scoffed at first, but now I think it isn't such a bad suggestion."

"One of my clients raises cattle; he might be able to sell you a few."

"I'll talk to Robert about it later." She said,

"Where next?"

"Hospital." She checked her fob watch. "It's half-past two, she'll be having her tea I hope."

The doors swung open, and the acrid-sterile air seemed to slap him in the face. He reached for the wall, steadying himself. Sudden memories flooded him, of waking up in the strange hospital, the stink of putrid flesh and around him, men grunting in pain. Cora stopped, seeing him,

"Are you alright?" she asked, "Should we go?"

"No, no, thank you. I'm fine." He straightened, removing his hat; he followed her to the secretary who occupied the desk in the corner.

"Lady Grantham." The nurse greeted them, "The doctor is busy at the moment, he-"

"That's quite all right." She was tugging off her gloves "I understand a good deal of wounded came in a day ago."

"Yes my lady, almost a hundred-"

"What?" she was clearly shocked

"Yes my lady, twice as many as last time." Cora nodded, thinking. The double doors leading to the hospital beds opened, Sybil and Doctor Clarkson came hurrying to them, both wearing masks.

"My apologies Lady Grantham," he tugged at his mask "but I am afraid I must ask that you not stay too long, I would advise against staying at all."

"Oh dear, may I ask why?" the doctor glanced from Sybil to her mother again. Sybil bowed her head, nodding slightly.

"It seems there is an infection spreading among the men." Cora gripped her gloves, "It is typhus, and we are hoping to avoid a complete outbreak."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you very much for all the lovely reviews! What a nice treat to have some followers! Here it is, chapter two. Sybil works tirelessly, Cora worries, and Carson is sweet. Oh and there's some nice father/daughter snugglies at the end. First to review gets Mrs. Patmore's best pudding! And don't forget to check out my profile for new ships added to my list! - darthsydious_

_Chapter Two_

"Where- where is the rest of the staff?" Cora asked her mouth dry.

"I have sent most of them home, out of necessity; I keep the nurse out here to stop anyone from coming in, and two more to help care for patients. Your daughter was brave enough to insist on staying." Sybil looked up, finally meeting her mother's gaze. Cora looked a mixture of anger and shock. "She is adamant she stays, and I cannot turn her away, she is one of my best nurses." Doctor Clarkson said his tone even, though sympathetic to Lady Grantham. "I will caution you that your clothes be immediately boiled and then burn them, so that you don't contaminate the air."

"Is it that serious?" Matthew asked, not worrying really for their clothes, he was more concerned about the men and the village.

"We can't be too careful." He said. "I must beg that you leave now, and not to cause a stir, we don't want a panic to spread."

"But surely people should know!" Lady Grantham said,

"Yes," Doctor Clarkson said, "But if they thought that we had an epidemic before we have one, they'll panic before they need. When people panic, they tend to make mistakes, mistakes we can't afford, not at this time." She nodded, numb.

"Yes- yes we'll go now. Sybil- be careful, we'll wait up for you."

"Thank you Mama." Matthew took Cora's arm, almost having to tug her out of the hospital.

"Do you think it's very serious?" Cora asked

"No one can say for certain yet." they walked faster, both wanting to get home.

"We'll go downstairs." Cora said, nodding him around the back. They were both nearly running now, Cora already unpinning her hat. She pushed open the door,

"Anna!" she called

"My lady?" several heads poked out of the kitchen, immediately everyone came hurrying out; it was their tea-time. "Anna, you and Mrs. Hughes put up sheets."

"Sheets my lady?"

"Our clothes need to be boiled," she was already pulling her gloves off and unbuttoning her long coat. "And then burned."

"Burned?" Mrs. Hughes was quite shocked.

"Yes. There is a small outbreak of typhus and the doctor said we must." Small gasps echoed. Bates was already back in the kitchen, they could hear him telling cook to put on water to boil, Carson and Anna made quick work of the sheets, covering two doorways and one between so Matthew and Lady Grantham could change in privacy. Anna fetched both their dressing gowns,

"I've drawn baths for both of you." Mrs. Hughes said, "Anna will help you my lady."

"Thank you." Cora said behind the sheet, over the top of it came her wool suit, her shoes, stockings, petticoat, chemise and corset, another sheet was spread on the floor, so no one would have to handle them.

"All of these my lady?" Mrs. Hughes asked,

"Everything. I'm taking no chances." The dressing gown was handed to her, as soon as she was decent, Anna quickly ushered her upstairs the back way, where no one would see her. Soon to follow went Matthew, Molesley at his side. His uniform, shoes, socks and under things went into the same sheet that held Lady Grantham's clothes.

"Lucky they gave me so many uniforms I suppose." Matthew said, and the valet smiled a little.

"Sir, what about Lady Sybil?" he asked as they made their way upstairs,

"She insisted on staying at the hospital. Seems everyone else was sent home excepting Lady Sybil and a few others."

Dinner was somber between the four of them.

"I should think you did a good thing, burning the clothes as soon as you got home." Violet said as the dessert was set down before them. They all looked at the confection, as delicious as it looked and smelled, none seemed to have stomach for it at the moment. Cora fiddled with her fork on the edge of her plate.

"She'll be fine." Matthew said quietly to her. Cora looked up at him.

"Who knows anymore?" she asked softly. "I've lost one daughter already…" she composed herself, tears threatened to fall. "I'm sorry Robert," she said, and he reached for her hand. "It seems hopeless sometimes."

"I know."

"There's been no word?" Matthew asked, the others looked at him.

"We…hoped she'd at least contacted you." Robert said. Matthew shook his head.

"No, there was no letter. She- made it quite clear to me before I left." Robert nodded. A sudden clap of thunder startled them all. In a few moments, rain pounded on Downton, thrumming the roof and making it difficult to speak without nearly shouting. They departed to the drawing room for coffee and drinks. They sat quietly for the longest time until finally, as the rain began to abate to a gentler pace; Carson tapped on the door, on the tray he held was a note. He gave it to Lord Grantham, all eyes were on Robert as he opened and read the note.

"It's from Sybil," he said, "She wishes for a change of clothes to be brought to her." Everyone breathed a sigh. "Carson, would you see that one of the girls gets what Lady Sybil needs?"

"Yes M'lord."

"Perhaps that means she'll be home soon." Cora said a twinge of hope in her voice. Silence settled over all of them. The clock ticked away, Violet started to speak to Cora, about something, but no one seemed to hear, and she didn't seem to want to repeat herself. Carson returned

"Begging your pardon," everyone jumped, "Daisy has Lady Sybil's things packed and ready, she's leaving now, will there be any reply?" Robert looked around the room,

"No, no reply, only that we're keeping a plate warm for her."

"Very good M'lord."

"Oh and Carson, see that someone goes with Daisy, you know how things get this time of night, especially if they may be receiving wounded."

"Yes Lordship." He was gone again. In a little while there was the steady sound of hoof beats on the drive, the dogcart clattering at a speedy pace towards town. Matthew stood, and asked if anyone minded if he read aloud. Cora smiled at this.

"That would be lovely."

**Some time later…**

Matthew had just gotten to a particularly funny speech of _An Ideal Husband_, everyone smiling and forgetting for a while why they were so anxious when sudden applause startled them all, there stood Sybil, a little worse for wear, her dress soaking wet from the rain.

"Sybil!" everyone gasped and lurched forward,

"No, no-" she waved her hands, "I only came to hear who was reading so well." She said, "I must go and change right away, the rain did most of the washing, but I fear I need a proper bath." Carson cleared his throat quietly

"Begging your ladyship's pardon, Anna saw you from the window and has drawn you a bath, and Mrs. Patmore says she'll have your dinner ready in just a moment."

"Thank you Carson, and thank you Matthew, that was lovely to hear!"

Having bathed and changed, Sybil went down to the dining room, she found Carson waiting for her. He started, seeing she had changed into a fresh uniform.

"Excuse me, my lady," he said "But the family was under the impression you were home for the evening."

"Oh no, only for dinner." She said, "I'm needed back almost immediately. If the typhus is not as bad as we fear, then we must start moving men to Downton, in a day or so if possible. There's too much to do." She sat down, setting her cap on the chair beside her. "You've had your dinner I hope." Sybil said.

"I have thank you my lady."

"Then have a cup of coffee with me."

"My lady!" he started

"Oh stop it and sit down, I insist upon it."

"I will serve you first." He said, hoping that she would forget by the time she had a proper meal before her.

"Has everyone gone to bed?" she asked as he brought the warming trays over to the table. "Oh that smells lovely, I'm famished!"

"No, they're waiting in the drawing room for you." He generously spooned the roasted duck and cranberry sauce over her plate, the same with the vegetables and hollandaise. "Mrs. Patmore is a wonder." She marveled, tucking in as soon as he stepped away

"She has her secrets I'm sure, her and Mrs. Bird." Carson agreed

"How have things gone today?" Sybil asked, wiping her mouth neatly before cutting off another bite. "Everyone is alright downstairs?"

"Oh yes my lady."

"Anna must be near her confinement now." Sybil said, Carson started, but cleared his throat

"Yes…my lady." She smiled up at him.

"Such a wonderful thing to have in the house." She murmured in between bites. "A baby will be a welcome blessing."

"Any blessing is welcome." He agreed. They were quiet for a while more. When she'd finished, he took her plate, "I'll have my coffee in here," she said, "No sense in moving the carafe again." When he returned with her coffee, he found her at the serving board, plating two desserts.

"Oh my lady, I can-"

"Nonsense, it's pointless to expect you to do it all when I'm right here." She set the plates on the table "Carson you have a piece too." She said, "Please sit with me a little while, I have to go back almost immediately." Her tone was so entreating that Carson did sit. Spooning a forkful of the treat into her mouth she looked at the dessert, her eyes suddenly sad.

"Something wrong, Lady Sybil?" he asked,

"Mary's favourite." She said softly, poking at the strawberries and cream over the pudding. His face fell,

"I- I can take it away if you like." He said, but she shook her head

"No, thank you Carson, I'll have it." She smiled bittersweetly, savouring a small bite. "She was your favourite, wasn't she?" Carson looked embarrassed, "There's no shame in that." She said, "I always knew you loved her best, she was the first after all. Heaven knows how you all got on before her." He smiled a little, his cheeks rosy. "I remember how she would bring me down to your pantry, and you would always have a peppermint stick for us, and in the winter, when we'd have our hot chocolate, a peppermint stick would be sitting in her's. I always knew it was especially for her, because she was eldest, and had the most to do." Carson opened his mouth, and then shut it. "She sometimes shared them with Edith and I. When she was old enough to have her own room, she'd sneak into the nursery and read to us." She looked over at him and gasped softly, seeing the tears in his eyes "Oh Carson, I'm sorry." He gave a short gasp, clearing his throat as tears streamed down his cheeks; he tried to wipe them away. She gave him her kerchief,

"Just an old butler…old memories never fade easily." He said quickly. "I apologize."

"No you mustn't." she said and touched his arm. "Don't ever for missing someone you care for." He looked at her, "You're family Carson, you and Mrs. Hughes, and Mrs. Patmore, and Anna and Bates and William and- and everyone." She squeezed his arm, he wiped his eyes again. "When Mary left, you lost someone too, and you have every right to grieve." He nodded slightly, and she pushed his plate of dessert at him. "Now," she said, her tone lighter now, and he could tell through his blurry eyes that she was smiling. "Have your dessert, because nothing helps a grieving heart like Mrs. Patmore's pudding." He smiled at this, remembering himself telling her such a thing when she was little, and she had to be left behind from some event. He'd taken her to the kitchen, sat her at the table and handed her a plate of whatever sweet was being made that day. Sudden movement caught his eye, she was standing, he made to, but she waved him off as she pinned her cap on. "Thank you Carson, tell Mrs. Patmore it was delicious." Before he knew it, she'd pressed his forehead and was hurrying out of the dining room. He got up, rushing after her,

"My Lady, what shall I tell the family?"

"That I borrowed Matthew's bicycle from the stables, and I'll try and be back by morning." And she was gone. He dreaded returning to the drawing room where the Crawley's were eagerly awaiting their youngest.

oOo

Sybil did not return the next morning, nor that afternoon or evening. Over the next few days, the servants gave reports of seeing the youngest slipping into Downton in the wee hours of the morning, just to bathe, change and leave again. Every evening, a note would come from the hospital, Sybil could not come for dinner, too many patients and threat of a typhus epidemic still loomed. By Sunday, Cora did not dare hope she might come that night, just as well. When Carson brought the note, Robert nodded for him to go ahead and read it aloud. They were pleasantly surprised to learn that while she couldn't come for dinner, she would be home by midnight, staff would be sent home for bed rest.

"Then we will wait." Cora said to Carson. "We'll have coffee and sandwiches here, to tide us until dinner."

"Don't let your dinner go cold, Carson-" Lord Grantham said, "You and the staff needn't wait to have yours."

"Yes M'lord, thank you." The trays were brought up, the servants dismissed until called for, and they all settled in for a long wait. Robert took to pacing, Violet sat quietly, attempting to take Cora's mind off of Sybil. Edith and Sir Anthony had come to dinner; even Edith was terribly concerned. Coffee was served, and everyone sat quietly, picking over their sandwiches. Finally out of sheer hunger, they did eat, but most only managed one or two before setting their plates down. The clock chimed ten-thirty; everyone stared at the offending time piece on the mantle, willing it to move faster. Matthew took down another book finally, and asked if he could read aloud. No one said otherwise, so he began, this time, and perhaps fittingly so, the St. Crispen's Day Speech. He had just gotten to the end, his voice clear and strong:

"_-Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red. _

_This story shall the good man teach his son; _

_And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day _

_To the ending of the world, but We in it shall be remembered-_

_We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he today _

_That sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, _

_This day shall gentle his condition, and gentlemen in England now-a-bed_

_Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, and hold their manhood's_

_Cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."_

He looked up, seeing the expressions of his listeners; Robert was deep in thought, obviously moved by the speech. Any man who had fought in battle, Matthew supposed the words took on new meaning, to the ladies they would always be poetic and true. Bates stood in the doorway. Matthew met his gaze, and Bates cleared his throat, startling the group.

"Lady Sybil is back; she's upstairs now, and will be down in a moment."

"Is she home for the night?"

"Yes your Ladyship." Cora stood shakily, Robert offered her his arm  
>"Then we'll go in to dinner." Matthew gave his arm to Violet, following Robert and Cora, Edith and Sir Anthony.<p>

When Sybil arrived in the dining room, she found everyone was already seated, waiting for her.

"You didn't wait supper did you?" she asked. Her exhaustion was evident, she looked ready to collapse at any moment, but the smell of food on the serving board seemed to perk her a little.

"Of course we did." Cora said as Matthew held her chair for her, waving Carson off. "Besides, we thought it might be nice to sit with the guest of honor."

"What?" her sleepy eyes opened a little more. Robert held up his glass to her

"To Sybil, who showed her true muster, and stayed when so many left." Matthew, who sat beside her, took out a box from his pocket.

"It's for bravery in the line of duty." He said of the medal. "And today it goes to the bravest soldier."

"Oh no." she said, "No I couldn't."

"Then we'll share it. It's much to dressy for any of my things." And she laughed a little then. Edith beamed at her sister, truly proud of her efforts. While they ate and conversation picked up, eyes drifted back to Sybil now and again. It seemed with each bite she took, she seemed more exhausted, as if it was too taxing to even eat, despite her genuine hunger pains. With the knowledge that Sybil was home for the night, talk became merry again. She told them sleepily that the patients carrying typhus had reached crisis and survived, and that it looked as though they avoided a true outbreak.

"Any word about wounded coming here?" Matthew asked

"Yes, they will be shipping them here tomorrow, most likely in the morning." Talk went back and forth amongst the others over where lounge chairs should be set up on the lawn for patients, and where they would be sleeping and so on, how many nurses and doctors would be on staff, and if they would need more maids or not. Matthew was watching Sybil, who now had not had a night's sleep in almost a week. Plates were removed, dessert was about to be served when Sybil's head nodded. Matthew caught her shoulders gently so as not to rouse her, and leaned her against her chair. This motion caused all talk to cease as they realized she was truly asleep.

"I think it's time she was in bed." He said quietly. Robert stood, set his napkin down and gently eased her chair back so as not to wake her. Tenderly, he lifted his daughter in his arms and carried her from the dining room. Cora smiled a little at this, faintly begging everyone's pardon, but really knowing she didn't have to excuse either of them. No one minded.

Robert settled her onto her bed, carefully removing her shoes and jewelry. Anna came in quietly, but he waved her away, instead leaning his daughter's form against him, he tugged at the hair combs and pins in her dark tresses, setting them quietly on the nightstand. Fast asleep against her father, Sybil didn't see him nod to Anna to undo the long row of hooks on the back of her gown, and then slide her out of it. Tucking her under the covers, Lord Grantham said she would be comfortable enough, and to let her be for the night, Daisy could bring the laundry down in the morning if there was any. Knowing she was dismissed, Anna turned to leave, pausing in the doorway to see Lord Grantham take the edge of the bed, the light from the hall lamps catching the shine of his buttons on his uniform. He smoothed his daughter's hair before pressing a gentle kiss to each eyelid, and to her brow.

"Sleep well dearest." He said softly, "I'm so proud of you." Anna tiptoed away now, down to the kitchen again, leaving him to soothe his daughter's tired brow.

**Kitchen**

"Is she asleep?" Daisy asked, Anna nodded

"She fell asleep right at the table." She said, sympathies were murmured

"I shouldn't wonder, at the pace she's been going." Mrs. Hughes said. "I hope you changed her out of her evening clothes."

"Yes." Anna said, she decided to keep the fact that Lord Grantham had done most of it to herself. It was his right as Sybil's father to take care of his daughter, and it was comforting to know that some rules of society couldn't touch them, that a father had a right to love and care for an ailing and rightly-so exhausted child. Carson came downstairs, bringing the last of the empty plates.

"Everyone is in bed now." He said, Bates was already at the dishpan, his sleeves rolled up, helping Mrs. Patmore dry the plates. The rest of the dessert remained on the tray, mostly untouched. "They said we could have it." Carson said and everyone cheered a little at this, and once the dishes were dried and put away, they sat around the table again, quietly talking.

"When are the wounded coming?" John asked, he passed the rest of his dessert to Anna, knowing she was eyeing it. Taking the half-empty bowl, she set it on her large belly, and tucked into the pudding.

"Tomorrow morning most likely." Carson said. They lingered over their plates, sighing delightedly from the treat. Finally, though,

"If it's alright with you then Mr. Carson, we'll be getting to bed. We ought to be up early for when they arrive."  
>"Yes of course, goodnight Bates, Anna." The butler nodded to them. One by one, they all stood from the table and headed upstairs.<p>

"Mr. Carson," he turned hearing Daisy's soft voice behind him.

"Yes, what is it Daisy?"

"Do you- do you think William will be coming here tomorrow too?"

"Its unlikely he will be here as soon as all that." He replied. "Rest assured his Lordship will let us know when young William will be returning."

"Yes Mr. Carson. Goodnight sir."

"Goodnight Daisy. Mrs. Patmore." The older woman smiled in return before putting out the last candle. Seeing Daisy's unhappy expression, she patted her arm.

"Oh don't fret. He'll be home before you know it." Daisy nodded after a moment.

"Thank you Mrs. Patmore."

"Well don't laze about, get up to bed! You'll be useless tomorrow if you wait around all night!" Daisy scurried up the stairs, leaving Mrs. Patmore to shake her head, starting up after her. Her frown at the young girl disappeared as soon as her back was turned, melting into a small sigh of annoyance. Daisy was a good girl, silly more often than not, but a good girl.


	3. Chapter 3

_This one is a bit short, sorry, but I'm going away until Monday, and I wanted to get at least chapter three out before I leave. Since the main part of this story of Matthew and Sybil marrying for convenience, I wanted to get on with that already, since he admires her anyway. As always, love comes after, but its not going to be easy to come by, don't worry! Lots of angst, arguments and trauma for this couple! Okay not a lot, but enough. Seeing as Matthew did fight in the war and all that. Anyway, here it is, chapter three! First to review gets to dance the Grizzley Bear with Thomas. (that really is the only time he isn't a jerk)_

_Chapter Three_

Just as Sybil predicted, early the next morning, several ambulances pulled into the drive, rattling down the gravel way to the big house. Carson was beside himself, attempting to have them moved to the servant's entrance. Bates tried to speak

"It is more direct." He said, "And the staff is more than willing to help you unload.

"And you cannot disturb the family at this hour, the youngest has only just gone to bed!" Carson said, obviously upset at the noise the cars were making.

"That would be Lady Sybil?" one of the doctors asked, stepping down from one of the trucks.

"Yes." Carson said stiffly "And she is _not_ to be disturbed." The Doctor sighed,

"Show us where, but be quick, we can't have these men lying about. We've two more loads to bring." Carson nodded as the trucks were opened. Inside, stacked up by threes, they fitted six to an ambulance, it was crowded, and the nurses had to strap the men down to keep them from rolling off the stretchers. The servants were soon rushing about, helping nurses with fresh linens, bringing trays to soldiers and wheeling those who were allowed, out to the lounge chairs on the lawn. Lord Grantham, after tending his usual meetings and answering telegrams from the front, went to find Cora, who was already assisting the nurses in any way she could. Edith had come back, distributing water and books among the soldiers, offering to read if someone couldn't see. Matthew was there as well, sitting with a young man no older than William was. Robert decided to leave him alone. The patient was blind, his legs gone. The doctor said he'd been too close to a shell, he'd been found under a pile of bodies, unable to get out for almost two days. Matthew sat quietly with the soldier, speaking when he thought of something, so far, it seemed the younger of the two had no recollection of anything, he merely sat in the chair, the cloth over his eyes reeking of salve to help ease the sting of mustard gas that lingered on him.

When Sybil did come downstairs, she instantly offered her assistance, realizing she'd slept most of the morning away, she reached for her apron, but Anna prevented her.

"Doctor's orders." She said, "Doctor Clarkson says you're to rest until further notice." Sybil looked ready to complain, "Mr. Bates and Mrs. Patmore said they could use your help in the garden today." This seemed to ease Sybil's temper, so she put on her oldest dress and sturdy boots, taking down a sun hat; she went to the kitchen to ask where a basket could be found. Anna came with her, at seven months pregnant, Lady Grantham saw to it that Anna be given afternoons off until her confinement.

"You're not working too hard?" Cora asked the maid, seeing them head to the garden.

"No milady, thank you." The great woman nodded before heading back to the soldiers on the lawn.

The weeks passed, the garden grew, and soon, those who were well enough were allowed to help tend the garden. Soldiers found it simple work and a welcome distraction. One man said he'd written home about the garden, and his mother was sending whole dogwoods, roots and all to ring the garden. The soldiers took some delight in prettying their current home, especially working at the Victory Garden. Matthew slowly readjusted to life at Downton Abbey, though even here, things had changed. Now that Downton Abbey was a makeshift hospital, Sybil could work from home, helping Doctors perform surgery in the sickrooms, distributing medicines among wounded, and tirelessly bringing tea and water to whomever needed it. When she wasn't working at Downton, she drove the ambulances from London to Downton when the opportunity arose. Matthew greatly admired her efforts, especially since her only days off were the weekends and she spent most of them touring the villages with her father, seeing progress on other local victory gardens, which villagers wanted to take wounded in if they could, and which farms were making offers of cows so that the wounded at Downton could have beef in their diet again. Walking one Saturday with Robert, Matthew mentioned Sybil's fervor, and the elder of the two Crawley's glanced over at him

"We're very proud of Sybil. Out of all of my children, I was certain it would be her who would take off for Italy, try some foolish Florence Nightingale exhibition. You know she's teaching Edith to drive?"

"Yes, she told me the other day." Matthew was clearly impressed. It was obvious that Robert and Cora relied on Sybil. She was the one who brought the family together over disagreements, seemed to be the only one who could soothe her sisters. Robert told Matthew how Sybil helped do the books for the estate with him, and studied how the estate was run, how cottages were built and where they ought to be placed, why certain ditches were stopped and new ones started, how and when fences should be mended, what stone ought to be used and so on. "Her zeal is exhausting, and refreshing." Robert said, smiling as they stopped to admire the house from a distance. "I wonder often if I was wrong in putting so much on Mary. She loves Downton, it's where she was born and where she grew up, but it isn't in her blood, not as it is in mine. I see my love for this place in Sybil." They were quiet for a moment, Robert reflective. Matthew studied Downton, and then Robert for a moment, pondering what was said. "Well, we've tarried long enough; we'd better go in, I'm sure Carson has rung the dressing gong by now." Robert said, startling Matthew from his thoughts.

Because there weren't as many servants, dinners were more relaxed, though Carson seemed to do his best to uphold the usual tone. The wounded abed, all distributed their ration of laudenum to help them sleep, Sybil and the two doctors staying in Downton could take dinner with the family. Edith and Sir Anthony Strallen and the Dowager Countess were dining that evening. Conversation flowed freely; faces glowed in the warm candlelight. It was not once or even twice but four times that Cora saw Matthew look over at Sybil, clearly admiring her. Several times engaging her in conversation across the table, and three times, making her laugh. A thought briefly flashed in Lady Grantham's mind, being a mother, she couldn't immediately dismiss it. Still…she would wait before bringing it up to Robert. She let Matthew admire her youngest, not knowing that after dinner was when she should have watched, for just as the ladies left for coffee, and the doctors bid everyone goodnight, Matthew pulled Sybil aside to the library to speak privately with her.

"You can't be serious." She said, her face revealing her thoughts. "No one would believe it."

"I know what you're thinking." He said quickly, "But listen to me for a moment, please." He poked his head out in the hall, seeing no one was about, and then shut the door to the library behind him. "For almost five years my life has been centered on Downton, around this family. I had thought for a time that this was all a dream, that I knew what my reality was, my life in Manchester. If this war has taught me anything, it is that even things as constant as Downton may crumble, but I will be hanged to see it fall before my time. Not if I can do something about it."

"Matthew-" she began

"Please," he interrupted "Please listen to me when I say that my asking you isn't to prove anything to Mary, or to anyone else."

"I don't." she said honestly. "But…Matthew, Matthew you can't be serious, you don't love me. I am…fond of you but do you really think you would want me for a wife?" He met her gaze steadily.

"Sybil you are a wonderful woman, you've accomplished so many things when others would simply put their feet up. You're brave and honest and don't mind work, I admire you a great deal, and there isn't anyone I would rather have at my side to help me run this estate, if that time ever came." His words touched her, and when she got over the first shock of his confession, she found she still had doubts, as any sensible woman might.

"What if it doesn't?" she asked, "What if Mama is pregnant again? Will you still be happy when Mary comes home?" he set his jaw in a grim line, though he didn't break her gaze.

"Yes." He said. "And if I have to prove to you how serious I am, then damn it alright." With that he knelt down, and holding out his good hand, palm up to her, he proposed for a second time. Seeing him kneel before her, his hand outstretched, Sybil felt in her heart what her duty was to her family. She wanted more than anything after the war to go to a proper college. She wanted to see the world, to be a journalist, to become a true suffragette and earn the right to vote. But she could not ignore the calling in her bones, some unspoken duty that her father had ingrained in them when they were young, a duty to the family, to Downton Abbey, to the village and to the ones they loved. Where Mary failed, Sybil could not. She took Matthew's hand and nodded.

"Then I will." She said, and he stood. She began to remove the ring Branson had given her.

"If-" he started, and she stopped suddenly "You- you could wear it." He said. "He shouldn't be forgotten either."

"I shouldn't like him to be between us." She said softly

"Wear it if you like." He said, "I wouldn't object."

"You mustn't worry about an engagement ring." She said. "You know I don't want a lot of fuss."

"Don't worry about that for now." He said, "We'd better go in, they'll wonder where we've gotten to." Going to the door, he held it open for her. She waited for him in the doorway. Offering his arm to her, they exchanged nervous smiles before leaving the library to the drawing room to deliver the news to the others.

Naturally, the others were surprised, but shock gave way to joy, and even Edith could not be unhappy for her sister. She congratulated them both, and meant it. The Dowager Countess seemed less than pleased, though her smiles seemed genuine when the announcement was made. Robert tired from the constant reports flooding in every day from the war, and the ever-present worry over Mary and what she may or may not have been doing in Italy, began to cry, embracing his daughter, and soon-to-be son in-law.

"I should have spoken to you first." Matthew said

"You do approve, don't you Papa?" Sybil asked, and her father embraced them both,

"Yes of course I do." He said, cupping his daughter's face, "Of course I do dear." The relief that Downton would be taken care of was lifted from his shoulders, a weight that had caused him much distress and many sleepless nights. So the wedding day was planned almost that night over sherry and brandy.


	4. Chapter 4

_Good News Everyone!_

_I'm BAAAAAAACK! Good heavens that was a long holiday, but much needed and now I'm quite refreshed and ready to ship out the next chapter! Thank you one and all for your patience, it is appreciated. Much excitement happening here! Mrs. Patmore is making fudge and tea for all you lovely reviewers! _

_Chapter Four_

Robert wanted it sooner rather than later.  
>"Merry times are few and far between," he said, "We mustn't dally in fussing over things that don't really matter." Sybil and Matthew both agreed that a large society wedding would be in bad taste during the war, and neither really wanted one anyway. They put together a small guest-list, deciding that it would be an intimate family affair, that only a few true friends from society would come, since Sybil was still new to the London Season, and Matthew wasn't a part of any of the clubs the Earl circulated.<p>

"May the staff come to the wedding?" Sybil asked. Cora glanced up from the list to Sybil and then Matthew. It was unusual for the groom to sit in on preparations, but he didn't mind, and Sybil insisted it was his affair too, so he ought to at least help a little.

"I don't see any harm in it." Cora shrugged. "I'll inform Mrs. Hughes later on. Do you mind Matthew?" realizing he was being addressed he looked up.

"Oh…no not at all. They ought to be there." He fiddled with one of the pens on the desk, sneaking a quick peek at the clock on the mantle.

"Mama," Sybil saw where his gaze had rested for about the third time. "I think that will be all for the guest list. I shouldn't like more than fifty anyway. With the staff coming that makes it just about even between family and friends and any staff that they're bringing." She stood, so Matthew got to his feet as well. "I'll help with the menu later on."

"It's not very urgent." Cora said. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Oh I don't know. I hadn't really thought of it." She said, pondering a moment. "I'll see. Thank you Mama." Turning to Matthew, Sybil met his gaze. "Will you take a walk with me?" he opened his mouth, somewhat taken aback.

"Yes…of course. I'll ring for your coat."

"Never mind I'll fetch it. Thank you Mama." And she strode from the room, leaving Matthew to quickly nod his agreement and hurry after her.

~o~

"Are you still certain you want to go through with it?" Sybil asked. He looked up at her,

"I would have asked the same of you." Their shoes crunched along the gravel path, in the distance they could hear some of the wounded talking amongst themselves.

"I do still want to." She said and looked at him when she said so. "I'm sorry I don't seem eager." She said. "Ladies are supposed to enjoy hosting parties, if I were Mary I suppose I'd have the courses laid out, my trousseau prepared and my gown sewn." He looked over at her,

"You're not like her." He said. "I shouldn't like _you_ if you were."

"Thank you." She smiled then. "I like parties, I suppose I'm not very good at hosting them." He laughed a little.

"Neither am I."

"I remember when you first came to dinner, you and your mama." Matthew thought back, he'd almost, almost forgotten that. It seemed so long ago now. "You looked so nervous, I remember telling Edith so."

"My knees were shaking." He admitted, a wry grin.

"Were we so terrifying?"

"No," he shook his head. "I suppose I thought I wasn't cut out to be what you all expected me to be. Your father put so much faith in me."

"He still does." Sybil replied, tilting her head to look at him as they walked. "As do I." she slipped her hand in the crook of his good arm then.

"Thank you."

"Did you hear Edith's pregnant?" Matthew smiled warmly, looking over to her.

"No I didn't."

"She only just found out. Mama says were to keep it quiet for now, but I think you ought to know. After all you'll be his uncle."

"I suppose I will won't I?" silence resumed between them. "Let's all pray it's a boy."

"Whatever for?" she asked with a small laugh

"Well it's either that or pray Sir Anthony has a third cousin." She laughed outright then, lightly pinching his arm.

"Awful!" she giggled, and he smirked in reply.

~o~

In-between wedding arrangements, was the ever-present patients being shipped in and out of Downton. It was difficult for Matthew at times. He would pass among them, seeing so many young faces, empty of hope now. How wrong they all were! How could they ever think that a war of this size could end quickly? Or be won so easily? It was harrowing in the trenches, but you had your mates, and they had you. Trading cigarettes and letters across the duckboards, sharing badly brewed tea. Bonds were formed. Sometimes he could hear the Germans singing at night from their trenches. He remembered hearing one praying to God, thanking him for life and for his family and friends, and then he prayed for the men they were fighting against, that they might understand he didn't like killing, and he hoped they would understand why he was there, and that he knew why they were across the lines too. When he finished, Matthew, sitting against the wall of the trench, gun and knees against his chest called out:

"Amen!" There was silence for a moment, and then the German called back:

"_Danke_." Matthew still didn't know what happened to him, probably died. But that was how it was. He knew some men traded food and little mementos across the lines. On Christmas they found sausages left out, so he and William snuck over a few packs of cigarettes and the rest of the chocolate biscuits Mrs. Patmore mailed them. A few weeks later there was a bag of humbugs waiting for them. He remembered feeling a real sense of unity among all the men. They didn't want to be there, they didn't like the idea of going up over the top and shooting someone who might be just as afraid, just as lonely and just like them. It was good they never saw faces. They might become attached. They might not shoot. Then they might not win. He remembered William prayed every time before going over the top. And when he flung himself back into the trench, he'd pray again, pray for the blood on his uniform. A soldier asked William why he did that.

"It's not my blood." He had replied "It's God's now, always was. I don't think its right to take it and not apologize."

Suddenly he was cold, and Matthew felt very, very old. He wanted to sit down, to get away from people and noise and the stench of medicine and sterilized utensils. He felt himself stand on wavering legs, unsure of his balance he forced himself to walk. Blindly, he fumbled for the doorknob only to almost knock over Edith.

"Matthew!" he looked up, startled

"Sorry, Edith- my fault I wasn't watching-"

"No it's alright, I rushed in. Heavens you're pale, are you feeling alright?"

"Fine." He said, "Just tired I suppose." He shrugged "Were you looking for someone?"

"You as a matter of fact." She folded her hands neatly, "Mary is coming home." He blinked, not quite comprehending.

"What?"

"You ought to sit; you look as if you'll faint any moment." Edith said, taking his arm. Numbly, he shrugged out of her grasp. It wasn't fitting, a man ready to faint. He ought to be helping her to a chair, a lady in her condition. Who on earth sends a pregnant woman to relay messages? Where was Sybil? Firm hands guided him to the chair anyway. "Sit." She said sternly, and he obeyed. She took the chair opposite, crossing her feet beneath her skirts.

"Who found her?"

"Granny wrote to every contact she had." Edith said. "She didn't tell Papa what she was doing until she was sure."

"Where was she?"

"Venice. She was staying with…" now she paused, he looked up, keenly aware of the pained look on her face. She bit her lip, wondering how to continue. "With friends."

"Who?" she attempted a smile

"Oh heavens, I don't know…Granny didn't-"

"Edith."

"She has been staying in Ca' Farsetti, she's been seen coming and going from her apartment there with a man." Matthew sat back slowly as Edith went on. "I'm told he's from Greece, not in excellent standing in society, but any scandal attached to his name couldn't be proven."

"He must be old then." Matthew said, "Not to be fighting." Edith shook her head.

"No…he's younger…Granny says there is talk he didn't join. He's rather a dandy." _Bit of a dandy. _Suddenly he was thinking of that Turkish fellow, Kamal Pamuk that Mary so liked. She seemed to like the ones who fussed over themselves. Footsteps in the hall startled them, they looked up to see Robert, followed by Sybil.

"Edith, go and see your Mama, she's in her room."

"Is she alright?"

"She will be fine." He assured her. "Have Anna bring her something for a headache."

"Yes Papa." She kissed his cheek, pressing his arm before heading upstairs. Taking Sybil's hand, Robert led her over to the chair Edith had occupied.

"I…understand this is somewhat of a shock." He said gruffly. "It was to all of us." There was a long pause, Sybil was afraid to look, for fear she might see the tears in her father's eyes. "But we will overcome it, the same as we always have." It was bad enough she'd run away. Bad enough she was gallivanting about with some man with a reputation. Worse the man didn't even consider the war worthy of his efforts. "If you will excuse me," Robert said at last. "I will go and see your Mama."

"We're sorry Papa." Sybil pressed his cheek. He soothed her back, patted Matthew on the shoulder and sighed.

"I'm sorry it must all come so soon before your wedding. The pair of you haven't done anything to deserve it." With that he excused himself, leaving behind an empty silence between the two of them.

"Matthew-"

"When is she coming home?" he interrupted.

"Three weeks. She'll send a telegram when she comes nearer." She fiddled with her engagement ring, the one Granny had removed from the family collection for Matthew to present to her. "Would you like me to go?" she asked, moving to rise.

"No." his tone unreadable. "Thank you. Please stay." His good hand was on the armrest.

He felt her fingers slide over his, lacing in-between his. He moved his injured arm, the intent to soothe the back of her hand. She saw, the realization dawn on him almost immediately and he swore aloud, tears already smarting in his eyes. He pulled his hand away from hers to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing angrily. She left her chair and seating herself on the footstool, took him in her arms, cradling him. In a moment, she felt him shudder and he began to weep, arms around her waist. Stroking his hair, she found herself rocking back and forth. Behind them at the doorway stood Carson, quietly shutting the door, his own bitter tears staining his jacket.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear readers, thank you for your incredible patience. This has been a long time coming, and I wanted to get Mary's homecoming just right. Thank you to the reviewers Jessie J, Liz, jess, guest, and Chelsea! Thank you for your comments, advice and moral boosters! It's good for the soul to have reviews, so thank you very much. Your reward is a good long chapter, so I hope you enjoy it. Thank you again! - darthsydious_

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Five<em>

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Matthew looked up, Mary's letter alerting the family to her arrival at the station sat beside Cora's napkin.

"Yes of course." He said, his calm demeanor was unsettling to her. He picked up his fork again. "Why shouldn't I be?" suddenly the act of spreading jam on his toast was incredibly absorbing. He forced himself to look away from the toast on his plate to briefly look Sybil in the eye. Her gaze followed his movements a moment longer

"Will you be working here today?" Cora asked,

"Yes. It looks as though Doctor Clarkson prefers me here, rather than at the hospital after all. I expect it's because there is more room here and less damage I can do." Her attempt to make a joke fell flat and she cleared her throat. "I'll be busy today, but I would like to know when Mary arrives."

"Yes of course." Cora glanced over to her husband. Sybil fiddled with her spoon, her cup and plate empty, she was clearly lingering.

"Don't let us keep you." Matthew said, he smiled assuredly, though his eyes went on glancing at the letter. "Sybil." She turned, hearing her name. "Will you take lunch with me?" it was unlike either of them to actually take time to sit and eat together, excepting dinner. Sybil decided she was right in her assumption that Mary's arrival had him on edge.

"Yes of course. Come and find me at noon, I should be here all day."

"I will." She made to leave but he caught her arm. Pressing an awkward kiss to her cheek, he nodded, supposedly in affirmation of the deed before he smiled and made his excuses, leaving the room. Glancing between Carson and her father, Sybil ducked her head, hurrying out into the hall.

Robert tried not to notice this exchange. Cora couldn't. Once the door was shut she set her cup down.

"You don't think Mary's homecoming has them on edge?" she asked quietly

"I'm sure it does." He replied, glancing over the paper. "But it's nothing they can't handle."

"Perhaps she should stay with your mother in the village…at least for a little while."

"Are you suggesting we insist our daughter stay outside of her own home?" Robert asked "Do be sensible."

"Robert don't make me sound so insensitive." She said. "But with Matthew staying with us temporarily and Mary coming home…I just dislike the house being at odds. It would have been bad enough if she were just coming home. Now she's coming home to find him engaged to one of her sisters."

"Be glad it's Sybil and not Edith." Robert said with a shrug. "And Mary will understand."

"Robert she isn't as strong as you think." This time he looked up. Sighing she set her napkin down, her hand resting on the table. After a moment, he covered it with his own hand, smoothing her wedding band.

"I know my sweet." He said with a sigh.

~O~

Sara O'Brian was sick to death of this stupid war. First Thomas had gone off and ever since the staff was steadily shrinking more and more, and with Downton acting as a convalescent home, the work seemed never ending. Linen was always in need of sorting and the new maid, Ethel, was nothing but a silly-heart with an easily distracted pair of eyes. Right now she ought to be bringing down her ladyship's soiled linens. Instead Sara was searching the house high and low for that insipid little-

"For heaven's sake, why didn't you say?" hushed tones startled Miss O'Brian. Old instincts told her to wait in the partway open doorway. Through the crack she could see Lady Sybil holding Lady Strallen's hands.

"I didn't like to, not with Mary's homecoming…Papa will be distressed enough."

"Oh Edith! But he is getting better?" there was a long pause.

"The doctor says it's lingering in his chest, and he doesn't like it."

"Is that why he hasn't been by? I'm sorry none of us asked, how awful."

"I won't pretend that I'm not hurt, but thank you." Edith said honestly. "I expect Anthony to be up and about, he is much better today, and he keeps telling everyone not to fuss, he expects to be riding again in no time." Sybil squeezed her sister's hand.

"I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon alright?"

"Can they spare you here?"

"Of course they can, especially for my sister." Edith paused

"I suppose now we ought to tell Mama and Papa."

"Yes I should think so."

"I'd like to wait a little, after all he seemed much better this morning…there isn't any sense in worrying anyone for nothing." Her hand went to her belly, smoothing over the gentle swell of her dress, the only sign of the impending child.

"Well do as you like," Sybil said at last "But you mustn't keep it all from us. I'll still come by tomorrow, better or worse."

"Thank you." And they departed the empty hall. Seeing the coast was clear, Sara poked her head out into the hall, and then left in the opposite direction to the servant's stairs, hurrying down. She would tell Lady Grantham just as soon as she worked up an excuse to see her. Perhaps it could wait until tea. Where on earth was Thomas when a person needed him?

**Downstairs**

"Mr. Carson?"

"Hm?" he opened one eye, hands on his stomach, taking advantage of the nearly silent kitchen just before luncheon to rest his eyes.

"Do you think his Lordship has had any word yet?" Daisy asked "I mean about William?"

"His Lordship will let us all know as soon as he has word Daisy, not before."

"Daisy!" Mrs. Patmore called from the stove. "For heaven's sake girl! Do you mean to burn the crumble or were you planning on taking it out today?"

"Yes Mrs. Patmore." She scurried off, nearly running into Miss O'Brian.

"Where have you been?" Anna asked, glancing up from her knitting.

"Looking for Ethel, not that it's any of your business. That stupid girl was supposed to change the sheets in the bedrooms; I came into her ladyship's room to find the bed still unmade the dirty sheets still there." Carson frowned. Anna began to get up

"I'll change them, I have a minute-"

"No!" everyone chorused, several hands reached for her to push her back into her seat.

"Anna sit back down, you're in no condition to go upstairs." Mr. Carson said. "Mrs. Hughes and Miss O'Brian can help Ethel after luncheon. Between the three of them they should be able to change out the sheets before dinner."

"I thought you were supposed to be home." Daisy said as she laid the table.

"It gets lonely there, and Mrs. Hughes said she didn't mind my coming to the kitchen. Besides I can do mending while I'm here, the hospital wears out sheets faster than anybody; I expect they can always use an extra pair of hands."

"They could, but you're not to strain your eyes." Bates said from the doorway. He held out his free hand to Mrs. Patmore, who gave him the bread bowl, slices still steaming hot from the oven.

"I won't." she said, though she clearly liked him worrying over her. Footsteps on the stairs alerted them to another. In a moment Ethel appeared, twirling her duster by the handle.

"And where have you been? As if I didn't know." O'Brian grumbled shutting her sewing box with a snap.

"Don't know what you mean." Ethel said, her cheeks were rosy and her apron was a little wrinkled.

"Ethel." Mrs. Hughes' stern voice called. The housekeeper was in the doorway, clearly upset. "In the future if you wish to go gallivanting off and shirk your duties, kindly let me or Mr. Carson know, so we may find someone who is more deserving of the post. You're not irreplaceable you know."

"Yes Mrs. Hughes."

"And kindly put that thing away, the kitchen is no place for a duster."

"When is Lady Mary due?" Ethel asked, plopping down in her place once the duster was relocated to the broom cupboard.

"Sometime after lunch."

"What's she like?"

"Kind, nice. Like Lady Grantham." Anna said,

"Aye, but don't be expecting to get ahead with either of them. Anna's had her job longer than you and'll get what she's owed, so don't go sniffing for favours." Miss O'Brian said warningly. Carson, Mrs. Hughes and Daisy exchanged curious looks. Sara O'Brian wasn't one to defend anyone but Thomas if it came to that. Ethel snorted derisively.

"As if I'd go about to someone I don't know. Who's to say she's any better than anybody anyway?" Carson sat up now, and Daisy and Anna both raised their eyebrows.

"The law says, and I say. If you have difficulty remembering so, then you are free to leave at any time. Lord and Lady Grantham provide the finest working conditions for the likes of us, and we are to be nothing but grateful to them."

"Indeed Mr. Carson and perhaps you can continue this lecture after luncheon before it all goes cold." Mrs. Patmore said, setting down the tureen of soup before him.

"Thank you Mrs. Patmore." He cleared his throat. "With Lady Mary coming and the staff being the way it is, I expect everyone to put in what they can, if not more so. We are not to shirk our duties simply because there is a war on."

"Yes Mr. Carson." The servants all mumbled as plates were passed. Anna and John exchanged looks, wondering how far Carson would go before he would relent that the staff simply couldn't handle things the way they used to be, not in the charged climate they were enduring.

~O~

**Front Door**

Oblivious to the ambulances being unloaded, the smell of blood and medicine, Mary Crawley stood, momentarily dumbfounded by the transformation Downton had undergone in her absence. Numbly, she moved among the stretchers covered in sheets, where the dead were waiting for the ambulance to bring them back to the hospital to be collected by their families. People rushed across her path, soldiers bearing gurneys excused themselves or asked her to step aside as they moved a groaning patient past her. Finally, amid all the confusion she saw her parents. They were waiting in the doorway, her sisters flanking them. Her father's stern look seemed to melt away, and he smiled a little at her.

"Welcome home Mary." his voice was hoarse as he held his arms out to her. Mary went to him, smiling slightly. Sybil put on a smile, kissing her sister's cheek.

"So glad you made it safely." To Mary's great surprise, Edith took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I see Italy was good to you." She said. Mary detected no underlying bitterness or scheming device in this, so she only nodded, smiling a little.

"I expect you've a good deal to unpack." Cora said, Robert was already heading back to see the men in the library again, Pharaoh at his heels.

"Not very much, Anna and I can manage together, where is she?"

"In her confinement." Edith said.

"What?"

"We did try to write you. I suppose the letter was lost." Sybil said, "Anna and Bates are having a baby."

"Heavens and you're keeping them on staff?"

"They haven't put in their letter to resign." Cora said. "I'm certainly not going to turn them out just because they're expecting. I'm sure your father will be very generous, whatever they decide."

"It will seem strange, not having her here." Mary said. The other three glanced at each other, then at Mary.

"Are you staying?" Sybil asked finally. She paused on the stairs.

"For now." And she continued on.

"Edith, have Mrs. Hughes send Ethel up, she can help Mary unpack. Sybil you'd better go on back to your duties." Not needing to be reminded, she hurried back out to the drawing room, where someone was ringing a bell for assistance.

"Lady Grantham there is a call for you."

"Yes, thank you Carson."

"Lady Mary is arrived safely I trust." He said, leading the way to the alcove where they had tucked the phone away from nosy eavesdroppers.

"Yes, she'll be settled very soon now, Ethel will have to tend her for now, at least with unpacking, O'Brian can handle Mary and myself for dinner I should think."

"Very good my lady. Will that be all?"

"For now, thank you." And she drew the curtain, taking the call.

~o~

Once she was unpacked and had time to freshen up, Mary went downstairs again, nearly run over several times by nurses bearing trays laden with clinking bottles and gauze, sterilized tools and masks. The south wing had been completely filled with beds; she didn't bother to go through, knowing it would be crowded. Instead she went downstairs, asking Carson where Matthew was.

"The grounds Milady."

"Front or back?"

"The back my lady." Carson said.

"It's good to see you Carson." She said, hoping there was at least one person who truly didn't hold anything against her.

"It's a pleasure having you home again." Carson said, his tone was warm.

"Thank you Carson."

"I trust your journey was not too hard." Mary paused on the stairway now.

"No, not terribly, thank you for asking."

"Captain Crawley is usually found among the men near the veranda, he reads aloud to them after lunch."

"Thank you."

Just as Carson said, there across the grounds stretched out perhaps thirty or so lounge chairs, each occupied by a recuperating soldier. Up and down the rows scurried her sisters and mother along with another nurse, distributing books, water, medicines and blankets, seeing that each was comfortable. Still more sat in wheel chairs, she saw that one of the elderly gardeners would go about and see if any wanted to be pushed round the grounds for a change of scenery. If one wanted, he would open an umbrella, set it in the back of the chair to shade the occupant and he'd walk them around the house, through the garden and back inside again. It took her a long time to find Matthew. He was sitting beside a young man, reading quietly to him. The young man's legs were missing, his face scarred beyond recognition, eyes bandaged. It seemed he'd seen her coming, and watched her reaction to the men and their wounds as she passed among them. As she made her way to him, a man's blanket slipped off.

"Miss, miss could you help me?" he grunted, trying to tug the blanket back up. Taking hold of the wool, she spread it over the man, as she leaned over him, settling it more securely about him, she was hit by a wave of morphine, and she could see as he lifted his arms that his hands were gone.

"There that's better. Are you thirsty?" she found herself asking. The man nodded. "I'll fetch you a glass then." She found Edith bearing a tray of glasses.

"I see you've found our newest recruit to Downton." She said, handing her a cup.

"What happened to him?"

"What do you think?" Edith asked, and then turned back to the waiting patients. "Try not to stare if you can manage." Mary picked her way back through the chairs to the man and put the rim to his lips. He drank greedily, his mouth dry and cracked. He nearly emptied the glass before he sat back,

"Drink that fast and you'll have a belly ache." She teased.

"Could do with worse." He replied, and Mary was suddenly struck by how stupid she must have looked. Attempting a smile, she set the glass down.

"Do you need anything else? Would you like some shade, or I could fetch the gardener to walk you around the grounds-"

"Would you sit with me Miss?" Mary looked around, seeing her family were all absorbed in their tasks.

"I…could for a bit yes." She went and found a chair and set it beside his. "Where do you come from?"

"Liverpool, born and raised."

"And your parents? What do they do?"

"Da was a carpenter, specialty things, you know, fine chairs and carved picture frames, that sort of thing. Ma was a seamstress for a great lady there."

"It sounds like a pleasant life." The man smiled a little,

"It was…funny I used to think it didn't suit me. If I hadn't joined the army when I was sixteen, I was going to follow in Da's footsteps. Didn't take to that so after I earned money for a commission I ran off." He shifted a little, sighing "It wasn't hard to earn the money either. I was good at carving. All the detail-work that takes time, I was best at it. 'Patience of Job' Ma said." He shrugged his shoulders. "Suppose I won't go back to that now." He looked over at her "I thought a few months ago that after the war I'd like to go back to Liverpool and try my hand at Da's trade." He laughed a little. "Da always teased us he could carve a frame with one hand, guess now I've got him beat." Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his breathing became labored.

"You mustn't excite yourself." Mary soothed, "Things will be alright." Sybil, hearing the conversation made her way over.

"Lieutenant Fielding-" he began to shake, "Doctor Clarkson!" Sybil called, "Mary get out of the way!"

"What is it?" Mary barely gasped out, horrified and frightened by the man's contorted features as he writhed in his chair. It was inhuman, his groans, his arms curled into themselves, he seemed to almost fold in half. Doctor Clarkson jogged over, coat flapping behind him.

"He's seizing." Already she was trying to roll him onto his side, "Reaction to the morphine perhaps?"

"Can't say yet." Doctor Clarkson said "When he's finished we can bring him indoors and have a proper look."

"If I could be of any assistance-" Mary faltered, her words seemed to be all stopped up in her throat as she watched her sister and the doctor attempt to keep the young man still. Fielding's eyes had rolled back, his jaw clenched and unclenched. To her horror, blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

"He's bitten his tongue." Clarkson said and cursed. "Lady Edith!" she looked up from her task "Go and fetch a nurse, have them sterilize a needle and find thread for stitching for me." In a moment Edith was gone. All the while Sybil was talking quietly to the lieutenant, as her small hands clutched his shoulder and arm.

"There, that's the way, you're nearly done, don't worry." Slowly, his body stopped shaking, and in a little while, his eyes refocused. Sybil stroked his bandaged head. "There now, don't be afraid, you're alright Lieutenant Fielding. Here is a bowl, for the blood." She helping him lean over, vomiting out mouthful after mouthful of blood. A chunk of something landed in the bottom of the dish. Mary realized too late it was a part of his tongue. Eyes wide, heart pounding, she stepped away from the chair, backing up until something touched her arm.

"My Lady, you had better come away." It was Carson. Gently, he pulled her away from the scene. She let him bring her wherever he was determined to, apparently the small parlour. In a moment she was lying on the sofa, a warm washcloth soaked in lavender water on her forehead, thanks to Miss O'Brian.

"Will you need anything else your ladyship?" Mary looked out the window; Sybil and the doctor were easing the lieutenant into a wheelchair to bring inside.

"I had no idea." She murmured.

"My Lady?" O'Brian and Carson glanced at each other.

"Nothing. Never mind."

~O~

**That Night**

Silence over the table was almost choking; only the clink of silverware was audible. Every now and again someone attempted conversation, but all efforts seemed to fail and they would fall back into awkward silence. Sybil sat across from Matthew, glancing between him and Edith. Mary didn't seem interested in anything, still shaken from the scene earlier that day.

"How was Italy?" Violet finally asked. Mary looked around the table, the surprise evident.

"It was lovely, very warm."

"I understand Ca' Farsetti is very nice…the hotel."

"It is." Mary said "I had my own suite there, very spacious."

"Did you see anything interesting?" Sybil asked, hoping to stop their grandmother from asking what sort of guests Mary had.

"Oh yes, all sorts of things, the usual tourist places like the Piazza San Marco, or St. Mark's Basilica are always pretty, but dreadfully crowded. Actually I spent a good deal of time in Rome, touring the ruins."

"Ruins?" Violet chortled a little. "Good heavens, what on earth would you do there? Study the Romans hedonistic ways? Good heavens, we have enough books on them, must we go to the source and study them?" The table was quiet again. Mary cleared her throat uncomfortably

"I expect you had quite the home-coming, Cousin Matthew." He looked up from spooning a bit of fruit on his plate, startled she was speaking to him.

"I couldn't say, your family tells me I was coherent, but I honestly don't remember much of my first week back at Downton."

"We don't like to talk about it." Sybil said quietly. Mary glanced from her younger sister to Matthew, seeing them exchange looks of apologies and thanks across the table.

"No," she said slowly, "Of course. I hadn't meant anything by it."

"Carson I think we'll have dessert now." Cora said, the butler nodded, and everyone seemed to sigh with relief at the change of subject.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I need some air." Mary got up from the table, chairs scraped as Robert and Matthew both stood as she left. Sybil stood up as well

"I don't think I'll have any either, Mama. Excuse me."

"I'll go with you." Matthew set his napkin aside

"Stay for a brandy Matthew," Robert said over his shoulder

"I will, I'm sure I'll need it." He said from the door, letting Sybil go by first before exiting after her.

**Drawing Room**

"What's wrong?" Mary asked, seeing her sister and Matthew enter after her. "Did I start something?"

"No, I was worried. I hope granny didn't upset you."

"Why should she?" Matthew and Sybil exchanged looks as Mary turned her back. "I must have really upset father if he sent the both of you." She smirked, playing with her pearls.

"Mary, Sybil and I are engaged." Matthew blurted out. Sybil stared at him. _That_ certainly wasn't how she wanted to tell her sister. After all he'd barely said two words dinner. It was all he could do to say it then. Mary stopped what she was doing, turning to stare at them.  
>"What?" she appeared to be almost laughing. Seeing Matthew's somewhat relieved expression, and the look of shock on Sybil's she sobered. "You can't be serious." Whatever indifference she was attempting to feign, she wasn't convincing. Matthew took Sybil's arm in his, over her gloved hand Mary could see the sapphire stone glittering on her ring finger, two smaller diamonds flanking it. She wondered how she could have missed that during dinner. Mary recalled seeing it among the Crawley jewels, one of the nicest rings actually. No doubt Granny had been generous and insisted Matthew give it as an engagement ring. He could never afford something so fine on his salary. "Well…when?" she asked<p>

"In a week." Sybil said. Mary's eyes widened briefly.

"Well that is something to celebrate, we ought to have champagne. Sherry will do I suppose." Moving to the decanter, she turned over three glasses. She glanced over her shoulder at them, speaking as she poured. "Why didn't you write about it, surely you could have guessed where I was." Handing one to her sister, the other to Matthew, who shook his head. She pressed it in his hand anyway. Both considered their glasses as Mary returned to the decanter and filled the last glass, by the time she'd turned to face them, he'd set his down on the table, still full. "So go on, why didn't you write?" she asked.

"It isn't the sort of thing you tell someone about in a letter." Sybil answered "We wanted to tell you in person."

"Papa must have been very happy." She perched herself on the edge of the sofa. "Why didn't anyone say before?"

"We didn't mean to keep it-" Matthew touched her arm lightly, shaking his head.  
>"Sybil would you please join the other ladies, I'd like to speak to your sister alone for a moment." she set her glass on the table and left the room, glancing over her shoulder as she left.<p>

"So you've settled for my sister?" Mary asked as soon as she was out of earshot.

"I did not settle-"

"Oh Matthew," she shook her head

"Forgive me, Mary, but when you made it quite clear to me you didn't _want_ to make a decision-"

"I do apologize for not snapping to the answer you and everyone else wanted me to make!" she said angrily,

"I never pushed you!" he said angrily. "If you recall I let you say your peace more than once. When your feelings seemed to shift for me, I think we both recall the night I proposed; I assumed you felt the same as I." He shifted, "I gave you time to consider, I gave you an entire summer to consider. When you turned me down I thought that was that and I shouldn't hope anymore." The air was still, stifling. Mary suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. Not in a room with him of all people, forced to remember things she'd rather not. He sighed, composing himself. "We didn't send for you just so you and I could bicker." She lowered her head, exasperated. He went on, quietly "Sybil and I are to be married in a week, and she wanted her sisters there as well. We wanted to tell you sooner, but no one knew exactly where you were."

"And where do you think I was?" he blinked, mouth agape for a moment

"I – was told you were in Ca' Farsetti, in the company of a young man."

"Whoever told you it was a young man?"

"Edith did." Mary rolled her eyes

"No surprise there."

"She had her information from your grandmother."

"Granny's spies must be in need of glasses. Did they tell you what his profession was?"

"I was – told he was a dandy, didn't approve of the war."

"Do you all really think I'm so silly that I'd gallivant about with some ridiculous foreigner? That I have lowered myself to the most debased recesses of society?" he sighed heavily.

"May I at least have the name of this…ridiculous foreigner?" She shut her eyes, shaking her head; her earrings swung back and forth, the beads tinkling lightly.

"His name is Crewe. Richard Crewe." Matthew frowned.

"That's not Greek."

"No, and it isn't German either, in case Granny was worried I was secretly spying for the other side." She set her sherry glass down, "He's a professor of archaeology, and he was in Egypt when the war broke out. With all the excitement going on there, he couldn't get anything done so he went to Italy to find work." Mathew was quiet.

"And do you love him?"

"What?"

"I asked if you love him."

"Whatever gave you that impression?"

"We were told he was seen coming and going from your rooms."

"Oh for heaven's sake, from my suite?" she asked, exasperated, he nodded. "Yes, I entertained guests there, the same as anyone would. The rooms are spacious and inviting. He and I became quite close as a result that I don't speak Italian very well, and he wanted someone to tour all the ancient cities with. I didn't have anything to do, so I agreed. He's a charming sort of fellow I suppose." She traced the rim of her glass. "He is younger than Sir Anthony, a little older than Papa, but he is amusing."

"Will you marry him?"

"Heavens, I don't know. He's a good friend is all." Matthew sank down into a chair, finally having Mary's side of the story. The most shocking part was that he believed her.

"Why didn't you simply write then?" he asked, "All of this could have been cleared up without a word about you or whomever you were seen with." She shrugged.

"I suppose I was caught up in Sybil's talk of women being allowed to travel when they liked, visit whomever they liked and write when they like." Fiddling with the button on her gloves she bit her lip. "I didn't want the responsibility to reaffirm everyone's hopes that I was behaving. For once I simply wanted to go, to do what I liked, and prove that I'm not what they think I am." She looked at him. "I like people, I like the company I keep, which judging by the amount of friends I made in Italy, is tolerably good and merry." Matthew's features softened a little as she spoke. "They aren't flamboyant or spectacular, but they are good, and kind. Many are like Richard, professors of some kind and their wives, who are all agreeable, more than that in a few cases." She realized her gaze had drifted to the far wall, the faces of her friends long left behind all shimmering in her memory. She looked back to Matthew "But all of them look at me for who I am, and I couldn't ask for a better honor."

"Not even your family's?" he asked. Mary slowly shook her head.

"I love my family Matthew, I do…but I can't…" a heavy sigh "I'm not the daughter they think I am, but I know I'm not the one they wish I was either."

"If you would give them a chance-" he tried. He wanted to say how much they all had changed. That Edith had put aside her differences with her sisters, that Robert and Cora were only concerned for Mary, her reputation at this point was detail. He thought of a hundred different ways to put it to her, he could have rebuked her or attempting to impress guilt on her. She looked at him, waiting for him to say something, probably expecting him to scold her for her lack of faith. Instead he put his good hand in his pocket.

"Then I hope you'll write to us when you get back to Italy, and keep writing." The smile of approval from him shocked her the most. Perhaps he wasn't thrilled with her choice, but then was it what she expected? She looked at him, startled; her lips formed the tiniest of smiles.

"If you wish it."

"I do." He said. "And I want your promise that you will stay for the wedding, and you'll give us another chance, all of us."

"Edith too I expect."

"Especially Edith." He said with raised eyebrows. She bowed her head, smiling now.

"I promise."

"I hope whomever you choose will be worthy of you."

"Thank you." And this time, her smile reached her eyes "I know you've got yours." She shook her head, eyes shining "And I couldn't be happier for you, the both of you." Before he could answer, the door across the room opened quietly, Sybil appeared again,

"Is everything alright?" Matthew turned to Sybil's worried face, her eyes reflecting concern, Mary turned away briefly, touching the corner of her eyes with her fingertip.

"Quite alright Sybil, darling." She smiled, pressing her cheek. "I was just congratulating Matthew on his fine new bride."

"You're not angry?" Mary took her hand, squeezing.

"No dear, I'm not." Someone cleared their throat and they all started. It was Carson.

"Begging your pardon, Lady Grantham wishes for your company in the drawing room."

"Thank you Carson, we were just finishing." Sybil said. Mary followed the butler out of the room, seeing the others lingered she stopped,

"Go ahead, we'll be a moment."

"Don't take too long, you know what Granny will say."

"Only a moment." Matthew promised.

"Well? What did she say?" He took her hand in his,

"It's fine. Everything is fine."

"Are you sure? What about Mary and the Greek-"

"Hush, I'll tell you later I promise, just not now."

"I'll hold you to that. Are you coming for coffee?"

"I'd better. I shouldn't' let you go in there to face the lionesses alone." Gathering themselves, they held their heads high and went to the parlor to the others.

**Late That Evening…**

"It wasn't as bad as all that my love." Robert said, tossing his robe on the end of the bed. Cora slipped out of her shoes before climbing into her side of the bed.

"Poor Mary, she must have been so shocked when Matthew and Sybil told her." The edge of the bed dipped with Robert's weight as he sat to remove his bed shoes.

"I am glad they did so in private. It's not for anyone but them to hear. And you mustn't ask any of them either. If they want us to know let them come to us."

"Robert, for heavens' sake-" she began, but he looked over his shoulder. "Oh alright I won't." she said. He slid under the covers, sighing heavily. "You know me too well."

"Don't make that seem like a fault." He said. Cora shifted closer to him and in return he held out his arms to her. Snuggled close to him, she breathed deeply.

"If it is, then it's the worst one about you." She said.

"Are you happy for Matthew and Sybil?" he asked

"Yes of course I am." Her chin rested against his chest as she looked up at him. "I admit I had always hoped that he and Mary might…" she shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps Sybil and Matthew will have a happier outcome." She smiled up at him. "I hope as happy as ours."

"So do I." He said and lowering his head, pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

~O~

**One Week Later…**

The day was cool and the last of the summer colours were in full bloom, and so the walk to church was merry. Everyone held a twinkle in their eye for the youngest Crawley as she walked down the aisle beside her father. Though a good deal of the guests glanced once or twice at Mary, attention was rightly so focused mostly on the bride and groom. If she had any resentment for the bride and groom, she hid it exceedingly well. Smiling and applauding at the end of the service, she sang along with everyone else and seemed rather pleased for her sister's happiness. The party afterwards was small, as the bride and groom wanted it. Robert apologized for not being able to send them somewhere fine for their honeymoon. They would be staying in the Grantham's London townhouse in Berkley Square.

"It seems this wretched war has reached the furthest corners of the world, travel is all but impossible to anywhere decent."

"London is perfectly nice." Matthew assured him.

"Honeymoon? In London?" Violet was horrified. "The furniture is all covered, nothing is open!" But Matthew and Sybil were determined to make the best of it. The house had been shut up for quite some time now; it hadn't been properly opened and gone over in almost two years. Carson sent a small team of staff to go and see that everything was put to rights before the new couple arrived. Only Molesley and Mrs. Bird would be traveling with them, as they would only be gone for a week. There was a good deal of rice-tossing and singing as the newly-weds climbed into the car to leave for the station. The family followed them to the door. Sybil leaned out the window, pressing her father and mother's cheeks.

"Thank you Papa, everything was beautiful." Eyes shining, Cora squeezed her hand,

"Best of luck darling, and of course you mustn't worry about writing to us."

"I should think not." Edith kissed her sister goodbye. "Don't worry about any of us for the next week, either of you. You know what Granny will say."

"I think she'll have something to say either way." Matthew said, "Goodbye Edith, thank you. And give our regards to Sir Anthony, I'm sorry we couldn't say goodbye earlier."

"Yes I will thank you." Mary suddenly appeared at the window,

"Here." She said, and passed Matthew a package. "For the both of you, it's from Italy. I brought a few bottles with me to add to the cellar, I thought you two might like it."

"Thank you." Sybil leaned over, and Mary took her hand, squeezing it.

"You won't see me when you get back." She said quietly. "I'm going back to Italy…back home." Sybil's smile fell.

"Home- what can you mean? Downton is your home." Mary smiled bittersweetly.

"I think it always will be, but I think I am better off in Italy." She said. "For now at least." Leaning halfway out the window, Sybil threw her arms around her sister, holding her tightly.

"Be careful; please write to me, to us, when you get there."

"I will darling, I promise I will." Mary's eyes were shining now. "I know you'll make him happy." She said in a low voice, "So I don't have to tell you to look after him."

"Mary-" but she'd stepped back now, smiling at Matthew.

"But I will tell you to take care of her." She said, "She's your responsibility now I'm afraid, but a task I'm sure you'll manage."

"Best of luck to you Mary." He said, and reached out his good hand so she took it. When he pulled away she was surprised to find a small note in her palm. He gave her a small nod, before he turned forward.

"Ready now Mr. Jordan." And the motor pulled away, Sybil and Matthew waving to the family as they departed.

The others filed into the house,

"Coming Mary?"

"Yes…in a moment." Edith didn't say anything, but let her be, nodding for Carson to keep the door open for her sister. Once they were gone, Mary looked down at the note Matthew had left her. It was only a folded piece of paper, her name on the top. Inside, in his neat script it said:

"_Thank you. – Matthew"_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you, thank you, thank you everyone for your patience! Here is chapter six, not as long as I'd like it to be, but at least it's finished and I can start on chapter seven! This one has more to do with Mary and Edith and so on. Also, for those who don't know Jam-Roly-Poly is delicious, but it involves standing over a hot stove for a while, and in August, it takes patience not to throw it all out the window to let in some air. Just FYI...cuz it's mentioned later. Or should I have said spoiler alert? Anyway, please enjoy chapter six of Duty and Honour! - darthsydious _

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><p><em>Chapter Six<em>

London was lovely. They stayed in for two whole days, sleeping and…well…certain things one doesn't really need to know do they? But Sybil and Matthew were forging a new life together, and they explored all the intimate things husbands and wives do together shyly. Once they had gotten over the embarrassment of it, they fell into a better understanding of their new relationship, and became closer for it. They went to the theater and out to lunch and to the park. It was an idyllic time for them, because in number seventeen Berkeley Square, there didn't seem to be any war outside the front door. There was a beautiful garden, and tea and morning cake and…well…eachother. They didn't have letters to fuss with or worry about changing beds or ambulances full of wounded. It was all so fine that Sybil didn't realize a whole week had passed and they hadn't heard the doorbell at all. Until it rang on Sunday. Matthew looked up from his paper, frowning.

"What was that?"

"The door." Sybil said, "Who on earth is calling? It's not even luncheon yet." Molesley stood in the doorway, he cleared his throat quietly.

"Yes?"

"It's a telegram, for Mrs. Crawley." He said and brought it to her.

"Thank you Molesley." She said. He bowed out quietly. Whatever it was, it could not have been good news. Telegrams were only sent for emergencies. The yellow envelope suddenly seemed heavy in her hands. "Probably…news…from Lady Scribner…I knew her son…" she murmured. Matthew nodded, shaking his paper a little, pretended to be absorbed in the article. He watched her over the edge of it. Her whole frame shuddered, she covered her mouth, eyes searching over the paper again, rereading it.

"What is it?" Matthew asked, seeing Sybil's troubled expression.

"Sir Anthony has died." She said softly "Edith is inconsolable, and Mama is worrying for Edith is so near her confinement now." She looked at him, but he was already pushing back his chair, taking his jacket.

"If we leave this afternoon, we can be home by tonight." She was already standing, helping him into it.

"Thank you." She said. He nodded a little, pressing her cheek quickly

"I'll be back in a while."

~O~

"What do you mean you've sent for them? Good heavens let them be. They needn't be disturbed, the dead will remain so."

"Really Mama," Robert rolled his eyes, "

"I am not being insensitive to Edith, it is a great loss, losing one's husband…but Sybil and Matthew must have time alone."

"Sir Anthony did not intend to die in the middle of their honeymoon."

"Really Robert, you make it sound as if he were there. Anyway Edith is strong; she will keep for another week until they return."

"She needs her family." Cora said. Mary, who had been sitting quietly, fidgeted a little. She and Edith were not very close, but she did feel sorry for her. After all, she did seem to love Sir Anthony. She could imagine how terrible it must be to lose a husband, before he saw his child born. Mary wished keenly for Sybil. She always seemed to know what to do.

"It would be unseemly-" her mother's voice startled her out of her reverie "for Sybil and Matthew not to be present at the funeral."

"Unseemly, but not unforgiveable." Violet said,

"Well it's too late now, the telegram has been sent." Mary said "Even if we could reach them, I'm sure they're already on their way here if Matthew has anything to say about it."

"Where is Edith?" Violet suddenly asked, "Good heavens, she's not alone is she?"

"No, her maid is with her I believe."

"Never trust a maid." Violet said, and digging her heels into the parlor carpet, got to her feet. "Maids can be sent away. I cannot. I shall go and sit with her. She will need some distraction. Mary, do come along won't you?" Mary nodded; she supposed she could put aside her differences, to help her sister. She'd outgrown some things, she hoped.

Edith, dressed in heavy mourning, and heavily pregnant, did her best to make them welcome until Violet told her to stop.

"Mary can do that, you must worry about yourself."

"What am I to do now?" Edith burst into tears "He's gone now and not even seen his child. It's all he wanted."

"Yes, and so you shall carry out his wish, and take care of yourself." Violet said. Mary handed her a cup of tea from the service.

"If not for yourself, then for your baby, and for Sir Anthony's memory." Mary said, and both Violet and Edith looked up.

"Yes." Violet said, a little taken aback, but she quickly nodded. "Yes indeed. Now have your tea, you can't be a good mother if you starve yourself. Has cook been making all your favourites? Nothing is worse for a mother to be than denying all her cravings." She got up and went to find the maid to take her down to the kitchen. Mary sat down, cup in hand.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly. "I know…I know how much you cared for him, and he for you."

"Thank you." She looked at her tea, forcing a smile. "He did…very much." Her smile was genuine now. "He told me…before he died…he said that I was so different from his first wife, but that's why he loved me." He wouldn't let go of my hand." Blinking back tears, she set her cup down, and gently, removed the ring from her smallest finger. "He wore this always, on his little finger, and he gave it to me, he said his Mama had given it to him before she died." Mary took the gold ring, inside the setting was a piece of glass, and underneath was a tiny swatch of hair, woven in a pretty basket pattern.

"It's lovely." She murmured, passing it back to her. "You're fortunate…to have so much to remember him by." Edith nodded a little. "And you have four whole years together." Edith nodded.

"Would- would you like to see some photographs?" she made to get to her feet, Mary put a hand up

"I'll get it," and she went to the bookcase, taking down the red book Edith pointed to.

"Anthony loved taking photographs. Everywhere we went, he took an extra twenty minutes to set up the camera. Longer if he had that silly tripod." Mary sat down beside her sister, and she opened the book. Inside, pasted against the paper were photographs, some before they were married, dozens more afterwards. Anthony made sure to capture almost every moment they had spent together. Pictures of before a dinner party, of Edith dancing at a party, there were pictures of them sitting at a picnic and horseback riding. Under each, in Edith's neat script she'd written the date and goings on in each photograph.

"You're very lucky." Mary said quietly, "Really." She looked over at her sister "He could be himself around you, which is more than he could be around me." She smiled. "I'm glad you were able to have such fun…and I'm sorry for almost taking it away from you." Edith looked up at her, a little surprised.

"Thank you. And I forgive you. I suppose we both have reason to be sorry." Mary smiled a little, finding a tremendous weight off her that she didn't realize she'd been carrying. Perhaps she did know and just learned to live with it. But she found herself smiling none-the-less, turning back to the photograph book.

"What's this one?" Mary asked, laughing at it. Edith leaned over, smiling.

"Oh heavens, we'd been to a costume party, we thought it might be fun to frighten one of the guests. We ended up playing sardines, and when she finally found us all, we were all in the cupboard, so he had one of the servants run and fetch the camera."

Mary spent the better half of the afternoon with Edith, looking through photograph books until Violet came in again,

"Edith, your Mama expects you for dinner as well. I've had your maid pack your things, you'll come and stay at Downton for the time being."

"But- the arrangements, they'll be coming here."

"Papa will handle them, I'm sure." Mary said.

"I want to make them." Edith said as she got to her feet. "He was my husband, not Papa's." Mary and Violet both started, a little surprised "I will be grateful for his help, but I should like to be the one to see Anthony is laid to rest." Mary nodded

"Of course you do." She assured her. "I'm sure Papa will be glad to help, in any way he can."

That night, after dinner, Edith went up to her old room, Anna brushed and braided her hair, and helped her into bed.

"Like old times, isn't it, Milady?" Anna asked quietly, with a small smile. Edith grimaced, hefting her weight onto the bed

"Yes, except I never made the bed creak so much…I hope." Anna gave a small laugh.

"I'll see if your cocoa is ready. Mrs. Patmore says she's got a slice of jam-roly-poly for you." Edith looked up, warmth in her eyes as she suddenly laughed.

"She remembered?"

"Course my lady, Mrs. Patmore said there was no one else in the world who could get her to make jam-roly-poly in the middle of August excepting Lady Edith." There was a knock on the door, and Cora poked her head in,

"It's just me, darling." Anna curtsied quickly

"I'll go and fetch your tray." She said and hurried out.

"Mary was telling us about this afternoon." Cora said, taking the edge of the bed, "She said you seemed better."

"I haven't stopped crying," Edith said with a smirk, "But she did cheer me up."

"I'm glad then." Another knock on the door, this time it was Robert

"Just had a note, Matthew and Sybil's train was delayed, they'll be here by the morning."

"You sent for them?" Edith asked, shocked.

"Of course we did dear, they're your family too."

"Oh I didn't want to you to bother them." She began to cry again, which Robert could only chalk up to grieving and pregnant. Both understandable. At Cora's insistence, he came a little further into the room, coming to stand beside Cora.

"Darling they wanted to come." Cora said, she squeezed her hand. "They wanted to be with you. We all do." Edith wiped her eyes.

"Thank you Mama, I know everyone means well."

"Goodnight darling, sleep well." She pressed her cheek and stepped aside. Robert bent, leaning over the bed to kiss her forehead.

"Goodnight dear, you know we're just down the hall." Edith smiled a little,

"Thank you Papa." As quietly as they had come in, Robert and Cora left, shutting the door behind them. That night, long after Anna had come and gone with her tray, Edith lay awake, thinking. She fiddled with her wedding band, thinking of the inscription on the inside that Anthony had written for her. She thought of his mother's ring on her littlest finger, and of Mary sitting all afternoon with her. She had often thought that everyone pitied her, because she wasn't popular in society, that she wasn't Mary or that she simply had no prospects. She felt terribly foolish now, thinking back to her childhood. How could she assume that her family felt nothing but pity for her? How dare she think so little of _them_ when they felt so much more for her? As sleep overtook her, Edith felt the bitterness she had pushed down for so long melt away, and she felt as if she could breathe again.


	7. Chapter 7

_Edited because it really was too short for my taste and I think it needed more! Thanks again to readers for your patience, for reviewing, and following! - darthsydious_

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><p>After the funeral, Edith moved herself back to her estate, despite her family's insistence that she was no bother.<p>

"I know I'm not." Edith said to her father as he helped her up to the door, "But I don't think it's fitting for me to come back to Downton. Not permanently."

"I wish you would stay, at least until after the baby is born." He said. Edith smiled,

"You mustn't worry terribly, I'll visit until the doctor says otherwise, and Mary has promised to pop in."

"I am glad she decided to stay after all."

"Only until January."

"It's longer than I expected her to." He glanced at her, smiling a little. "I am pleased the two of you patched things up."

"It didn't seem to matter anymore." Edith shrugged, a hand absently going to her belly. "I am ashamed of my attitude these past years Papa, and I apologize if we- if I made things difficult." He squeezed her arm

"You never did, dear, and perhaps we could have been a little easier on all of you." And Edith smiled her thanks. "How do you think Matthew and Sybil are getting on?" he asked. She paused in the foyer, pursed her lips a moment, frowning.

"I couldn't really say. They've only been home for a few weeks now. I suppose they're happy."

"Hm. Well I suppose we'll just have to wait and see." He said

"Yes indeed." She murmured. "I'd ask you to tea, but I know how busy Downton is this time of day." Edith said and rose on tip-toe to press his cheek, cradling her belly as she did so. "Tell Mama I'm resting, so she won't worry."

"I will."

~O~

**Village of Downton, a certain shop…**

Matthew rolled his sleeve down over the contraption, the material catching.

"Move your arm, try it out a little." The man said. Sybil showed him, and he winced in pain, the metal pinching his skin. His lame arm was especially sore; he was being fitted for a prosthetic arm, a ridiculous contraption that he loathed as soon as he saw it.

"It hurts." He grumbled.

"Stop fussing." She said, "No I don't think this one will do. Isn't there anything that's more flexible?"

"This is what we have; this is what we can spare. If you don't want it, then another soldier will take it."

"Then they can bloody-well have it." Matthew said, shrugging out of his jacket. "I certainly don't need it. I can function perfectly well without it." Sybil undid the straps over his shoulder and took it off his arm, he sighed with some relief. "Besides it pinches." He rotated his bad arm, holding his shoulder with his good hand. "Why's it so heavy?" Sybil glanced between him and the man, handing him back the wooden arm.

"Some don't mind the pinching." The man said, miffed.

"Thank you." Sybil said, as Matthew put his hat on and she helped him into his jacket. The man grumbled in response as they left the shop, the bell above the door jingling merrily.

"For future reference, if I decide again that one of those things might be useful, please remind me of this experience." He said as they made their way back to Downton on foot. She laughed a little.

"I've seen men without legs that whined less than you!" she said,

"It hurt!"

"I'm sorry." She sobered; "You didn't do that for me did you?" he shrugged.

"Perhaps a little bit. I thought it'd make some things easier, holding things I expect. What's the use though if it causes more pain?" she 'hummed' in response. "Let's go around through the field." he said, pointing down the worn path the workers took. "I want to see what they've done with the barns on the Brinkley's farm. Can they spare you?"

"For a little while." Sybil said, "Besides I think it's important we have our walks." Matthew shrugged and so they took the path through the fields, watching the farmers herd the sheep.

"How is Edith? Did she get home alright?" he asked, halfway home.

"I expect so. Papa should be home soon."  
>"When is she due again?"<p>

"Late December, or early January. Depending on if it comes on time." From where they walked, they could see a man in uniform on a bicycle, a bag over his shoulder down on the main road, he was just turning down the driveway to Downton. "The post is here!" she said, and took his hand, hurrying up the path.

"What are you rushing for? Expecting a parcel?"

"We might have word of William!" she said, and tugged impatiently at his hand. They caught up with the postman just as he finished sorting through the pockets of the bag for Downton's mail.

"I'll take it." Sybil said as he pulled out a stack of letters. "Thank you." The man muttered his reply before mounting his bicycle and starting back down the long drive.

"It will be for your father." Matthew said, reading over her shoulder, "Probably from the doctor, what was his name?"

"Critchards…" she said, "We haven't heard from him in weeks, not since just before the wedding…about his condition-" her fingers deftly flicked through the stack meant for her parents, "I wish we'd…get word-" Matthew stopped her, turning a letter back, he took it from the pile, "What-" they both looked at the address.

"_Wicklow, Ireland"_

They both looked at eachother, then back at the black-framed envelope.

"It's addressed to you." He said, and took the stack from her hands. Taking the letter from him, she held it a moment, her expression confused, memories and fears rushing back. "Would you like me to go?" he asked.

"No. No look and see if the Doctor wrote to Papa." She said, opening her letter. Matthew turned to the side, giving her a little privacy as he took up where she left off, almost half-way through the letters. He gave his full attention to the addresses, deciding she was good enough to let him and Mary alone so they could sort themselves out. It was the least he could do for her and probably all that remained of Tom Branson. His shock was evident then, when he found a letter for Lord Grantham from a Doctor Critchards, stationed in Verdun.

"Sybil!" he exclaimed, turning to show her. She looked up from the letter, her eyes red.  
>"Tom's dead." She murmured.<p>

"Sybil…Sybil I'm sorry." He reached for her, but she was folding up the letter, putting it in her pocket.

"You said the doctor wrote to papa?" she wiped her eyes with her apron. "We should go and tell him."

"Do you want a moment?"

"Not right now." She said, "William is alive, somewhere, and hopefully on his way. He is our first concern." She started inside when she suddenly turned around. "Do I look as if I've been crying?"

"Only a little." He said, she nodded and this time, held out her hand to him, letting him lead the way inside.

**Library**

"Well, that is a relief, I must say." Robert said, folding the letter,

"Is William alright? Is he coming home?" Sybil asked

"Yes, he'll be home in a few weeks time now, there was some delay, getting him out of France, and travel is slow, especially for his condition. But the doctor is pleased enough that he's recovering."

"Does he say if William will ever be sent back?" Robert shook his head

"No, nothing of that sort yet. He's to be safely home for a little while, that is what we shall hope for." He said, and reached for the pull.

"If you don't need me for now, I'll just go upstairs; rest my eyes for a moment." Sybil said. And Robert nodded.

"Is she alright?" he asked Matthew,

"She had a letter today. Distressing news I'm afraid."

"Seemed to take it well."

"Can't say yet." Matthew shrugged. "I'll see to her."

Up in her old room, Sybil sat on the bench at the end of her bed, the letter beside her. The door opened and closed, and in a moment, she felt Matthew press a gentle kiss to her head.

"I'm sorry about Tom." He said. After a moment she began to cry, he knelt and took one of her hands.

"I'm sorry," she said in-between her tears, "I'm sorry to be like this."

"Sybil you loved him." He said quietly, "Please don't apologize for that." He moved to sit beside her, "Not after all the fuss you put up with when Mary came home."

"Read it, I don't mind." She said, digging through her pocket for a handkerchief.

"Here." He gave her his before taking the letter. It was from a minister in Wicklow. Tom's last request had been that he be buried in the town he was born in, and that Sybil be written to when his remains were at peace. Having wiped her eyes, she looked at his kerchief, fiddling with the linen, edged in blue with his initials embroidered in the corner.

"Do you think…someday we could go and lay flowers on his grave?" she looked up finally, to find he was looking back at her.

"Yes I think we could." He said. "If they can spare you, we have time before William comes home." She smiled a little then.

"They'll always need me." She said. "But I don't want to put you out or-"

"You won't." he said. "I was able to make my peace with Mary. You and Branson ought to have the same rights." She took his good hand then, squeezing.

"Thank you." She said. "And…I'm sorry…about our honeymoon." He shrugged,

"We had a whole week. Besides it's a perfect excuse to go to Ireland."

"Papa won't accept that we're going to Ireland to have the rest of our honeymoon." Sybil said, raising an eyebrow.

"We don't have to tell them _where_ we're going." He said. "Just that we'll be back in time for William's arrival."

~O~

**Monday Morning…**

Their trunks packed and already sent ahead of them to the train, Matthew and Sybil kissed Mary goodbye.

"I am glad you told one of us." She said, "And don't worry about Mama and Papa. They won't hear anything from me."

"Thank you." Sybil said, and Mary squeezed her hand.

"Here," she said, and gave her a five pound note. "It's from Anna and Bates, they thought someone from downstairs ought to send their regards along with the two of you. It's enough for a wreathe." Matthew made to protest, but Mary held up her hands. "I had to tell someone from downstairs." She said. "And Anna is trustworthy." Sybil nodded, pocketing the money for safekeeping.

"Edith may know, if you must tell her, we don't mind her knowing." Sybil said. "Only if you must write to us, don't mail anything from the house if you can."

"Yes I know." Mary said, "Go now, the two of you, before you miss the train."

"Train's always late, it's Downton." Matthew said, but pressed her cheek goodbye. "Take care Mary." She kissed her sister, waving them off,

"I'll see to everything." She said. "Best of luck Sybil."

Mary decided she would tell Edith after all. She didn't have very much news to speak of otherwise, and she did want to try and keep her promise to visit regularly. So that afternoon at tea, she told her sister in confidence where Matthew and Sybil were heading.

"They haven't told anyone they were going away at all?" Edith asked, "My, if not for the fact that it's for poor Branson, I'd say it was terribly romantic." Mary quirked an eyebrow.

"They said they would call the big house when they were at the train station so mama wouldn't worry. But it must be between us, and Anna and Bates I suppose. We're the only four who really needed to know."

"Mama won't hear of it from me." Edith said. A servant came in, clearing his throat.

"Beg pardon Lady Strallen, but the horsehair chaise-"

"With the rest of the furniture in the attic, tag it to be sold, it was on the list." Edith said with a wave of her hand, "We cannot keep everything." Mary glanced between her sister and the servant, who quickly bowed and left.

"I saw the dust covers over some things in the small parlour as I came in. Are you going to London?" Mary asked,

"No," Edith took the handle of her cup, gently blowing on the steaming tea "It seems Anthony's brother is coming to claim his inheritance," she lifted her eyes up to look around the room, "The house of course. It's his right."

"He's taking your home?" Mary was horrified "In your condition!"

"It's his right." Edith repeated. "He says I am welcome of course, for as long as I need until I find a home of my own."

"Does Papa know?" Mary asked

"Not yet." Edith said. "Papa has enough troubles without having to worry about me."

"Edith you must tell him! There may be something he can do." She shook her head,

"Mary it's the law, it is a matter of family, blood relations claiming what was rightfully willed to him."

"Well he sounds like a cad." Mary sniffed, "Taking a home from his pregnant sister-in-law, it's really too awful."

"He isn't really." Edith said with a shrug. "He's very nice, and I get along with his wife quite well."

"I'm sure Mama will want them to dinner." Mary said. "But I think we ought to go back to Downton, and you must tell Papa."

"Oh must we?" Edith asked

"Edith!" Mary said, she'd already stood, putting on her gloves "You're to be homeless in a matter of days save for the good graces of some…person who decides to just waltz in and take your home, all of your things, the life you built with your husband! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"He did say I could stay until-"

"Until you find your own home." Mary said, "That means they'd rather you left. To be blunt they're just shuffling you out, along with all of Anthony's furniture!" Edith gave a great sigh, set her cup down, and took the bell that was near the service. Ringing it, they waited a moment for the butler to hurry in.

"Samson, will you please fetch Helen, and have her bring my driving coat and hat."

"My Lady, I don't-"

"I won't be driving," Edith assured him, "Lady Mary will be, but I am going out." The butler hesitated for only a moment, recalling the Doctor's instructions to the staff not to let Lady Edith do very much at all over the next few months. "Now please Samson." She said, Lady Mary was giving her arm to her sister, helping her out of the chair.

"Yes your ladyship."

~O~

**That Night…**

"Edith of course you must come home!" Cora said, "We'll send over a few of the servants immediately to fetch your things."

"It isn't so simple as that." Edith said "What about the baby?"

"I believe we've had a few in the house from time to time." Robert said, "Edith I do wish you'd told us sooner! Good heavens what a secret to carry!" he put his hands behind his back, standing between the sofas in the parlor, eyeing the group before him. "Edith will come home straightaway, spare yourself the humiliation of being booted out as they're moving in. And I want no more said about this. My mind is quite made up."

"Yes but mine isn't." Edith said, everyone looked at her, a little surprised. "I am a grown woman after all. I simply feel that I- I don't know, I hate to have to come home again, after all this."

"Darling what option do you have?" Cora asked, "It will be much better to come home to your family than stay there, feeling even more a burden to people you hardly know."

"I suppose." Edith murmured.

"I know it feels like a step back." Robert said, "But I dislike the idea of you feeling indebted to anyone who feels the need to tell family they are always welcome until they aren't. It smacks of bad taste." Violet, who'd been silent the whole time, finally spoke up.

"Edith may always come and stay with me." Everyone looked up then. "A convalescence home is no place for a baby, and my house is perfectly serviceable. Besides your two servants already have a baby in Downton, good heavens between the two of them no one would have any sleep."

"What do you think Edith?" Mary asked, knowing she most likely felt as if she wasn't really being consulted in any of it, despite being the topic of conversation. Edith glanced from her parents to her grandmother.

"Well…Granny's house is very quiet, and…I do think it would be best. I don't want anyone put out, the staff in Downton is stretched as it is, and Granny is right, Anna and Bates do have a child, whatever they decide, if they leave service or even if they stay, it will mean more work for everyone." No one wanted to suggest they ask the Bates' to leave service.

"Then it is settled." Violet said. "Edith will move in with me. I'll arrange for my staff to begin moving you immediately." Carson appeared, announcing dinner, they stood, following Cora into the dining room, Robert hung back a moment with his mother

"That was good of you Mama." He said quietly,

"A grandmother is always allowed favourites." She said and nodded to Carson for holding the door for her.

"Did Matthew and Sybil call?" Mary asked as they spread their napkins.

"Yes, sometime after breakfast, they said they would be going away for the week, back on Saturday. Why?"

"Just wondering." Mary said with a shrug.

"It seems very rushed." Violet said. "No notice, just a telephone call."

"I'm glad they were able to go away." Edith said, "I didn't like the idea of them having to miss their trip just because of me."

"I don't see why they had to go so suddenly." Cora said, "I hope one of them isn't ill."

"No of course not- why would they be ill?" Violet asked.

"Where did they go?" Robert asked "Did anyone hear them say where they were going? Not back to London I hope, the house has been shut up since they left."

"I think they went to Brighton." Mary said nonchalantly, Carson came round with the soup tureen, and she sat back a little, giving him room.

"Isn't Lady Scribbons in Brighton this time of year?" Violet asked, "I must write to her, and see if she'll have them for dinner." both Mary and Edith exchanged worried glances

"On their honeymoon?" Cora asked, frowning.

"It isn't really their honeymoon, they had a week in London." Violet said, "And they need connections."

"Cora is right." Robert said, after a moment. "Let's let them be. If they left so suddenly, then it must mean they want to be left alone. A wish I intend to fulfill. After all they need this time together. I don't want to hear of anyone writing to anybody in Brighton while they're away." Mary and Edith exchanged secretive smiles, but nodded that they would do as he asked, and not write to anyone in Brighton.

~O~

**Saint Kevin's Cemetery - Glendalough, County Wicklow, Ireland**

Crossing a simple wooden bridge, Matthew carried a wreath he and Sybil had bought with the money Anna and Bates had sent along with them, as well as a small bouquet of lilies. Holding onto his elbow, she scanned the tombstones, most of them falling over with age, sunk into the earth decades ago.

"There." Matthew pointed to a newer stone, standing out from the others. Making their way through the untrimmed grass, they came to stand before Tom Branson's resting place.

_Here Lies Tom Branson_

_Born 1890 – Died 1916_

Laying the wreath against the stone, Matthew stepped back and removed his hat, letting her set her flowers at the foot of the stone. Straightening, she stood beside him, folding her hands before her. She bowed her head, quietly praying. Minutes passed, a cool breeze passed through the cemetery, already the trees had shed their fall colours and leaves. The scraggly shrubs in the graveyard were in need of trimming. It was not a pretty place, it wasn't looked after, and it seemed forgotten. Matthew remembered the town seemed poor as they passed through it. He wondered what sort of life the late Tom Branson led here. Was he happy, growing up in a tiny village like this? His mother's tombstone was beside his, he did not succeed her by many years, seven at the most. Matthew found himself thinking of his own dear mother. She was far off in France, happily playing the part of Florence Nightingale. He missed her dearly, and wished she would come home. He looked over at Sybil just as she opened her eyes. She gave a small sigh, as if greatly relieved.

"Thank you." She said softly. He squeezed her fingers lightly. "I know he can't hear me anymore and that we did part bitterly, but…I think he knew I would come. That I would forgive him." Matthew smiled a little.

"Do you ever wish you went with him to Ireland?" he asked. She was quiet for a moment.

"Sometimes I wonder what might've happened if I did." She shrugged "To answer…no…I still believe I made the right choice in staying. I wasn't ready to go so far away. I suppose he saw that, and didn't push. I was angrier he didn't try harder to understand me, or even try fighting for me." Matthew smiled at that

"And to think Mary thought I pushed her too much."

"You didn't…not really anyway."

"I did in some ways." He said. "Like everyone else I got impatient, and upset with her."

"Do you ever wish she'd said yes?" Sybil asked. He was quiet for a while.

"Sometimes." He said, and Sybil despite a small pang of jealousy, couldn't fault him for being honest. "Sometimes I wish she could've just looked at her feelings and our relationship for what they were." He shrugged "But seeing who she's become over these years, I can see that marrying would've hindered her, rather than helped." Sybil nodded

"She seems more like herself than she has in years." She said. "Only she's surer of herself and what she's doing." They started back toward the village, through the tall grass.

"It isn't such a bad little town." He said, "It is rather pleasant." She nodded, agreeing. "We ought to come back here again next year." He said after a moment. "That way you can put more flowers on his grave." she looked up at him, surprised.

"You…you wouldn't mind that?"

"No of course not." He said, "Goodness, Sybil, you'd let me do the same thing if Mary died." He shrugged. "Besides I like telling everyone we're in Brighton when we're really off on our own here." She moved closer to him, resting her head against him.

"So do I." she said. He bent, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. Arm in arm, they walked back into the village, Sybil's mind at peace.

As she lay beside him that night, Sybil thought briefly of Branson. She used to worry that she still loved Tom, that he might come home and be angry with her for marrying Matthew. But as she watched her husband sleep, Sybil asked herself if she loved Tom Branson. She did. Rather, she did and she didn't. He was her first love after all, one simply doesn't forget them. Perhaps it was the war that changed her, perhaps it was being married. People did change, for the better or worse. Whatever love she had for Tom, it was still there, but…it just didn't seem to matter as much. He was gone now, and she had a whole life with Matthew to think of. How could she be selfish and compare her life now with what it might have been with Branson? She owed it to Matthew, and to herself, to make the most of her marriage. Leaning over Matthew, she kissed him gently. He blinked a few times, and then opened his eyes.

"Sybil?" he mumbled sleepily "What is it?"

"Nothing." She said softly, a small smile. "I'm only glad you're here." Matthew had seen that smile before…he recalled it back in London, on their honeymoon.

"So am I." he said, and when she kissed him again, he responded as any husband properly should.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello beloved readers! I'm so very happy to announce chapter eight is at last up! And guess what? Nine is almost ready too! It won't be up until next week, but I do have a good couple thousand words already written, so huzzah! Chapter nine will finally see William home! For now, enjoy some Matthew/Sybil marriage tension, Matthew/Edith brother-sister bonding and general Downton awesomeness. Reintroducing Thomas. Eventually will bring Mrs. Crawley back too. Enjoy! - darthsydious_

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

_It was hard to think through all the noise. Overhead were the whistling of bombs, of torched buildings, men groaning at his feet. Smoke burned his eyes, and the ground shook. William was supposed to be with him…no he was gone. He didn't know where, but he was gone now. Dead? No, that wasn't right. He pushed open the door of a half-blown building. The roof and two walls were gone; the door couldn't even be called that. Stepping inside, his boots crunched over glass and bits of wood, smoke still rose from the piles of ashes. A brief break in the clouds gave light to the ruins, and he could see metal bed frames, the box springs falling in, some beds collapsed on themselves. He stared, wondering what this place was. Moving further into the ruins, he tried to piece together what this place once was. Over by one of the remaining walls he saw something, half-blackened by the fire; he squinted, trying to make it out. As he came closer, dreaded realization dawned on him. It was a head, it was so tiny! A baby! No. No it wasn't a baby…relief gave way to bitter understanding. It wasn't the skull of a baby, but the head of a porcelain doll, her cloth body burned when the building was hit. This place was an orphanage, or a hospital of some kind. It's unfortunate occupants killed in their sleep. A shout made him jump; he turned in time to see a German running towards him, shouting as he came nearer. Instinctively, he raised his gun, thrusting up with the bayonet, meeting its mark. The man fell to his knees groaning. Matthew pulled the blade out of him, and the soldier fell back. As he met the grass, his helmet rolled off. Matthew bent to look at the face. He reeled back in shock, finding instead of a man, it was Sybil, her dark eyes blinked slowly. They weren't in France anymore, they were on the grounds of Downton, surrounded by bodies, and planes buzzed overhead, the constant "ratt-tatt-tatt-tatt" of dogfights droned on. He fell to his knees, gathering Sybil in his arms; she wasn't wearing the uniform anymore. She was in her blue evening dress. Blood soaked through the silk and muslin, _

"_Oh my god…oh my- no! No!" he gasped, he pressed his hand to the wound, trying to stop her hemorrhaging "I didn't- I didn't mean to…" she smiled up at him, "I didn't want this, I don't want any of it!" _

"_What do you want Matthew?" she asked softly. He looked up, _

"_Medic!" he shouted "Someone get the medic!" he cried frantically, a sudden still figure in the distance made him stop. It was Mary, dressed in her red frock; she looked at him, shaking her head sorrowfully. _

"_Oh Matthew," she sighed. "What have you done?" He looked down at Sybil again, her body was limp now. She was dead. He looked up at Mary, only to see her shot. Unable to grasp what happened, he held onto Sybil, staring as Mary fell to the ground, dead before her cheek touched earth. He couldn't speak, not even to cry. He looked around, everyone was dying, Cousin Robert was holding onto Cora, before the earth shook and she was blown out of his grasp. Edith, clutching a lifeless baby, her light curls tousled and streaked with mud as she fell to her knees, the front of her blouse stained red. His vision blurred, he looked down at his lap, still holding Sybil. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, but her mouth began to move. _

"_My God!" he gasped "My God, please tell me you haven't gone!" he shook her lifeless form, in the back of his mind there was a whistling, a bomb dropping. The ground shook, and he could hear his name in the distance being called-_

"_Matthew!"_

"Matthew! Matthew!" hands on his shoulders grasped him, shaking him from his nightmare. He came to, gasping for air, his entire self bathed in a cold-sweat. He turned suddenly, coming face to face with Sybil. He let out a sob of relief, clinging to her, he yanked the covers away from her, revealing her nightgown. He pressed his palm to it, feeling no blood there anymore. He stared at the snowy-white linen; he was so sure…the colour scarlet was everywhere. He looked at his hand, clean. The image of her on the lawn, there in his arms...it was too real. "There, there," She soothed, she pushed his hair out of his eyes, wild and fearful "Matthew, what is it? Tell me what's wrong please."

"Nothing…" he said hoarsely. "It…was nothing-" she sat back a little, "I am going to be sick." He croaked, she hurried out from the covers, snatching up the water basin and putting it under his chin. She sat beside him, soothing his back as he vomited.

"There, there, it's alright." She murmured. When he finished she gave him a glass of water to rinse his mouth. "What did you dream of?" she asked softly. He didn't want to think of it. The images were too fresh, and far more real than he wanted.

"Nothing…" he managed. "Nothing that you should worry about."

"You don't have to protect me." She said after a moment.

"I'm sorry." He said finally, she looked over at him. "I feel as if I'm living in two different worlds, I'm in Downton when I'm awake, but at night…at night I'm back in France…lately I feel as if the two are beginning to mesh, and I can't tell the difference until it's too late, and I can't-" he put his head in his hand, unable to explain anymore. His head ached; his eyes were swollen from lack of sleep. He laid back down again, curling onto his side, his arms wrapped around himself. He felt the bed dip as she shifted over to the edge and then get up. He heard the door open and close. In the eerie silence, he wondered if she'd gone to sleep downstairs. Before he had time to think of what he might do if she had, he felt a cool washcloth touch his forehead. He started, only to realize it was Sybil. She was sitting directly beside him, setting a bowl on the nightstand.

"Sorry is it cold?" he could smell lavender oil in the cloth;

"No." he said, and shut his eyes, sighing heavily as she pressed the cloth gently to his forehead and neck, wiping away his cold sweat, and she continued her minstrations. "You won't leave will you?" he asked quietly, and she shook her head. Setting the washcloth aside, Sybil eased herself next to him. Bringing her hand over his arm she carefully pried his hand open so she could slip her fingers between his.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. He shook his head, staring at the ceiling.

"No."

"Do you need your medicine?"

"No." he said, "Just stay here, Sybil. Don't leave."

"I won't." she said, something in her voice caused him to look at her. He met her gaze, his grip on her tightened. "I won't ever leave you Matthew."

~O~

**The Next Morning…**

Matthew and Sybil had not come back in time to move Edith into Granny's, so Sybil went to help put together the nursery.

"It seems so odd, you here instead of at Downton." Sybil said, "No, these won't do, they don't go with the curtains." Sybil handed the lace back to the maid, "Something dainty."

"Matthew looks exhausted," Edith said from her chair by the window, he was speaking with the gardener on Violet's request to find a place for the new fruit trees. "Is he sleeping at night?"

"He has such awful nightmares." Sybil said, she held up a strip of Brussels lace "What about this for the bassinet linens?"

"Oh that's lovely."

"I don't know what to do," she continued, setting the lace over the linens and bringing it to Edith. "The valerian doesn't seem to help either. The deeper he sleeps, the more real his dreams are to him."

"Perhaps he should speak to Papa." Edith said. "If anyone would understand, it would be him."

"I don't know if he would…he won't even speak to me about them."

"You've never been to war." Edith said with a shrug. Sybil looked out the window, watching Matthew. Being married to him was what she expected and yet it wasn't. He hadn't changed, not really, and she hoped she hadn't either. He seemed so troubled, his nightmares growing worse and worse with each passing week. She wanted to help him but if he wasn't willing to speak of to her of his dreams, how could she?

"What is it?" Edith asked. Sybil looked back quickly

"Nothing-" seeing her sister's quirked eyebrow, she shrugged. "Matthew seems so troubled lately. I want to do something for him. I wish I could please him."

"Do you think he's unhappy with you?"

"No…" she said slowly, "But…I don't know what to do at the moment. He doesn't like discussing the war with me, or anyone really. I suppose most wives would purchase a pretty gown or some novelty to distract their husbands…Matthew and I aren't like that, we're not so superficial to think that a gown would distract us from real problems."

"Talk to Mama." Edith said. "My life with Anthony was…blissfully, without many troubles, nowhere near what you and Matthew must be facing. I don't think I could in good conscience offer advice to you."

"Thank you anyway." Sybil said. She smiled at her sister a moment, seemingly aglow from her pregnancy. Marriage had changed Edith, beautifully so. It was a shame that it took Anthony Strallen's death to push the Crawley sisters' into a reconciliation, but Edith admitted Anthony had always pushed her to make amends with her family. Footsteps in the hallway made them both turn.

"Edith, you look lovely today." Matthew pressed her cheeks, "Here, cousin Violet's gardener sent me in with these from the hothouse." He held aloft a bouquet of flowers.

"Oh how lovely-" she said, "I hope Granny won't mind."

"Knowing they're just for you, she won't say anything…to you." Matthew said, and they laughed. "Shall I find a vase?"

"I'll go, I have to bring these down to be ironed." Sybil said and took the bouquet from him. Meeting his gaze briefly, she searched his face. All traces of exhaustion and fear long-gone from the night before. She passed by him, and Matthew could only shrug after a moment, though he knew Sybil well enough to know when she worried for him.

"How are you today Edith?" he asked as she gestured to a chair.

"Well enough- oh do forgive me, we've been trying to set up the nursery linens." She said as he nearly sat on a stack of doilies and lace fichus. He moved it to the basket on the floor, amused.

"I never understood so many fancy things for a baby." He said. "Won't they just make them messy?"

"Yes I suppose, but that's what's done." Edith said.

"I shouldn't like my children all done up in frills." He said. Edith found herself biting her lip.

"You- want children I expect?"

"Of course I do." He said, turning to look at her. "Sybil and I have talked of it…once." He suddenly realized how such a topic might be inappropriate…such a personal matter! Edith only shrugged. "It's not that she doesn't-" he began quickly, realizing she might think Sybil didn't want children. "I'm sorry." He stopped "Not the sort of thing one should talk about in public."

"It's alright." Edith said. "But I promise I won't tell." They were quiet a moment. "Oh!" she gave a startled gasp; a wave of her hand kept him from leaping from his chair. "It's nothing," she said "Just the child kicking me again." He mouthed 'oh', such a thing was foreign to him; though he tried to keep an open mind about it. After all it was 1916 for heaven's sake! Men shouldn't be so ignorant of their wives and the wonders of nature as it were. "Would you like to feel him?" Edith asked. He nodded shyly, deciding it wasn't a sin to admit to be curious of such things. So giving his hand, she took it, pressing his palm against the top of her belly, "There he is." She said, and after a moment, Matthew felt a 'thudda-thudda'

"Good heavens, does he kick you all day like this?" he asked, quite startled. Edith laughed outright at his expression. "Sometimes." She said, "You felt his heartbeat though. It's much gentler."

"May…may I feel him again?" Matthew asked, and Edith nodded, this time settling his hand on the side, and again, his fingertips could feel the child within her, it's tiny heartbeat tapping away. "Thank you." He said, taking his hand away.

"Thank you for letting me show you." She said. "It isn't something one tells anybody, much less shows them." She said and they exchanged embarrassed smiles. His expression this time was that of melancholy and even a little envy. "I am certain if she knew how much it meant to you, she would change her mind." Edith said quietly.

"Please don't tell her I spoke to you about it." He said "I wouldn't like her to think I'm upset."

"I won't." Edith said. She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him how worried Sybil was for him, that she wanted so much to please him. But that wasn't for her to say, anyway Sybil was coming through the doorway with the vase of flowers, followed by Violet.

"Edith, it is almost one 'o' clock, you must be exhausted. Finish this tomorrow."

"I'm alright, really." Edith said, "Honestly, Granny I don't think I need to rest every day."

"You ought to be." Sybil said, "Anyway we've got to be going, we're needed at the house."

"Will you be there for dinner?"

"Yes, Mama asked us to come."

"I'll see you tonight then."

"You're going out?" Matthew and Sybil both stopped,

"What?"

"Edith you're due in January, is it wise?" Matthew asked

"Nonsense, it's only November." Edith said. Sister and brother-in-law exchanged looks.

"We'll come and pick you up." Sybil said.

"Oh that isn't necessary, Papa is sending the car." She smiled a little. "You don't think he'd let me walk do you?"

"No of course not." Sybil said, "Do be careful, make sure Phillips knows to go slowly. You know how the roads get."

~O~

**That Night**

One might have thought Edith carried the crown prince for all the fuss that was made over her. Robert, knowing what the loss of a child felt like, was frantic that Edith be made absolutely comfortable, that not one bit of trouble come to her that evening. Thomas and Phillips both helped Edith from the car, and Robert instructed Carson and Matthew to help Edith anywhere and everywhere.

"Her condition is so delicate." Robert said, "I shouldn't have had everyone over if not for the letter I had today." and Carson nodded furiously

"Yes of course my lord, you needn't bother Mr. Crawley of course, I am more than happy to assist Lady Strallen."

"I don't mind." Matthew answered. "Sybil would have my head if I didn't." He said. "Anyway you can't be everywhere at once." He turned to Robert, smiling kindly "But I think you'll find Edith is stronger than she looks."

"One can't be too careful." He replied.

"I'm sure Edith will have something to say about that." Matthew said, smiling.

"Not if I can help it." Robert replied dryly as they went in to the ladies.

It wasn't until dinner was almost over that Matthew remembered Robert mentioning the reason for all of them being gathered.

"You mentioned a letter earlier." He said during the next lull in the conversation.

"Oh yes, of course," Robert glanced up from the fruit tray "I had a letter concerning William. He's due tomorrow." Everyone murmured something of approval. Over the past months everyone had grown increasingly concerned over the young footman. After all, it was William who had very well saved Matthew. Robert wanted to be sure that William Mason be given the best possible care, even if he wasn't an officer.

"Doctor Clarkson won't allow him here." Sybil said, "I've already spoken to him."

"As have I." Violet said, greatly perturbed. Edith leaned over to Mary as their grandmother went on about Doctor Clarkson's reason for not allowing William to stay in their convalescence home

"She's had him to tea several times, even gone to the hospital to try and talk him down."

"Heavens." Mary reached for her glass, "And he still hasn't budged?"

"I am sure something can be arranged." Cora said, "Robert isn't there somewhere he can stay?"

"The west wing is quiet." Mary said, "He could rest up quite comfortably there."

"It will be difficult to spare a nurse." Sybil said,

"You have volunteers don't you?" Mary asked, and they all looked at her. "I shall look after William."

"You?" Robert, Cora and Violet all echoed.

"Yes me." Mary looked at all three of them. "Sybil's been teaching me a little, and I think I could manage, with some help." She helped herself to the fruit held before her as she spoke. "Anyway I'm sure a familiar face might be easier for him."

"Will Mr. Mason be able to come and visit him?" Sybil asked. "I think he ought to."

"Yes of course he will be." Violet said indignantly.

"I have made arrangements for Mr. Mason to be here when William arrives." Robert said. Once dessert was finished, the ladies all stood, Thomas helped Edith to the drawing room while Carson stayed behind to serve Lord Grantham and Mr. Crawley.

**Drawing Room**

"Thomas, do you know anything of William's condition?" Edith asked. The footman glanced up from serving coffee.

"No Lady Strallen." Anna, asked to help serve as the staff was short looked as though she wanted to say something.

"Anna?" Cora asked "Do you know something?"  
>"Only that Daisy had a letter today as well your ladyship." She replied. "From Mr. Mason. From what Daisy told us, William is in a bad way." The ladies all exchanged worried looks,<p>

"What about Daisy?" Sybil asked, "Is she alright?"

"I expect so." Anna said, "He's coming home. I expect that's enough for anyone."

"Indeed." Violet said. "Cora, you must tell Robert William may stay in the west wing. We can't have these awful doctors telling us how to run Downton, war or not!"

"I will consult him of course," Cora said,

"If Papa is against it, he may always mend at Crawley House." Sybil said.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary." Cora smiled kindly, "I'll speak to Robert tonight about it." Her tone was kind, but firm. The girls understood their mother meant to say no more about it.

~O~

**Dining Room**

"Is it likely they'll send him back to the front?" Matthew asked, Robert glanced at his son in-law, then shook his head

"He's almost completely deaf."

"I'm told he was left for dead. Both legs were broken, lost most of his right hand. Temporarily blind from the mustard gas."

"My God." All that just from pushing him out of the way, William took the brunt of the trauma. Matthew was lucky he'd only lost part of his arm. William would be fortunate if he even saw or heard again, let alone walked.

"The doctors tell me he's gaining his sight back a little at a time." Robert said,

"How was he found?" Matthew asked incredulously

"He was carrying a whistle, apparently one of the servants gave it to him for luck," he was staring at nothing, "I was told he might have been left, if he hadn't kept on blowing it."

"Good God." Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose, his own memories from battle resurfacing. There was a knock on the door, Carson entered quietly

"Lady Strallen wishes me to convey her thanks for the invitation, but she is leaving now and says goodnight."

"Thank you Carson, I'll say goodnight to her." Robert set his cigar down and Carson held the door open for him. Matthew tapped his fingers along the edge of the table, thinking about William and that silly whistle. He remembered William had always checked he was wearing it. Just before they'd go over the top, his fingers would feel across his bony chest for the metal thing. Once he'd found it he'd nod that he was ready. Matthew couldn't blame him, after all he always carried the little rabbit Mary gave him didn't he? He remembered feeling the weight of it in his coat pocket as he ran through the sticking mud.

"Matthew?" he looked up, startled. Robert was back, sitting down again across from him. "Are you alright?" he asked. Matthew was at a loss for words.

"I think so." He attempted a half smile. "Of course I'm fine. I'm alive." Robert nodded.

"It's difficult, trying to act as if it's all the same. Nothing is." It was comforting to Matthew, knowing there was someone else that understood what he was feeling. Someone who wasn't shell-shocked or half-out of their mind from pain. Someone who'd lived through war, and proved a fairly sucessful father and husband. Yes, if there was anyone Matthew wanted to be like, it was Robert Crawley. He could do without the title and all that, but if it secured his happiness and Sybil's, then perhaps he could live with it. He'd gotten too used to life like this to go back he supposed.

"Sybil tells me I cry in my sleep." Matthew said finally. "I'm able to keep myself from remembering all but then." Robert nodded

"For a long time Cora told me I'd wake her up with my nightmares."

"Did it ever stop?"

"When she was pregnant with Mary." He said, "I suppose it took a new life to remind me that we all move on eventually." He looked over at Matthew "I still do dream of it sometimes, though they are few and far between now." Robert poured the last of the brandy in their glasses, "How are you and Sybil getting on?"

"Oh…you know, as well as to be expected." Matthew said, Robert glanced at him over the rim of his glass "I mean that we're both still quite new to marriage." Matthew said,

"If I may confide in you," Robert said, and Matthew nodded. "I didn't marry Cora because I loved her." This was news. Matthew sat back, rather surprised. He was under the impression Robert loved his wife dearly. "I didn't love her at first, I should say." He amended "That came later…"

"Was it all at once?" Matthew asked, "That you realized." Robert shrugged

"I don't know. I pursued her with the knowledge that I didn't love her. I knew she loved me, but I felt it only right to tell her I didn't quite reciprocate her feelings just yet."

"And she was-" Matthew searched for the correct words

"She was aware I was marrying her for her money." Robert said, "Almost a year after we married I realized how much I cared for her." He said "I tell you this so that you might be a little more at ease. I know you and Sybil do not…care for each other in the way you both hoped to when you married. My children were raised with parents that love each other, how could they expect anything less when they marry? I see I was wrong, pushing Mary before she was ready. I suppose she stopped trying to like them." He sighed putting out his cigar, "I think you and Sybil are better off than most marriages of convenience." Matthew hated that term. It seemed like he was compromising one of his greatest beliefs. But he had, hadn't he? No…not quite. That was an awful thing to think. He respected Sybil a great deal, and knew he would take care of her. He knew his character. It wasn't for his sake that he wanted to see that she was comfortable in life and that she was happy. That meant something didn't it? "Well, shall we join the ladies?" Matthew looked up, suddenly aware.

"Yes…I think we should."


	9. Chapter 9

**__**_Dear readers, you have been so incredibly patient, wowzers! And there's even a few new followers! Welcome! I hope this chapter delivers! We have a new character joining us, and Thomas is back! Yaaaay! Well, he's not working for Downton, he's just whatever. I just kind of threw him in there, sorry if people were expecting me to bring him back in a big to-do. *shrugs* oh well. And speaking of Thomas, those waiting for another chapter of "Unexpected Ally" I'm afraid you'll have to wait! Thank you for your patience everyone! Enjoy! - darthsydious_

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><p><strong>Monday<strong>

Downton was abuzz with activity. More so than usual it seemed. Aside from the usual patients coming and going, the family and staff were all anticipating when William would arrive.

"You'd think he hit the Kaiser going down the way everyone's carryin' on for him." Thomas muttered to Miss O'Brian.

"What did you expect?" she asked. "Anyway he's not so bad."

"I never said he was." Thomas shrugged.

"Thomas, Lady Grantham wishes to see you." Carson said.

"What for?"

"I'm sure I don't know, she only asked if Lieutenant Barrow could please come to the drawing room at his next available moment." Carson replied, quite tired of Thomas' high and mighty attitude of late. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Thomas lazily blew out a few smoke rings, quite enjoying watching Carson turn beet red. He stood, stretching a little.

"Nice not to have to hop-to when her Ladyship says." Thomas said. Fed up, Carson sighed angrily, turning on his heel. If Thomas got in trouble, it certainly wouldn't be the butler's fault!

"Might be to your benefit, her wanting to talk to you." O'Brian said.

"Well I reckon' I'll go up after all." He said, putting out the end of his cigarette.

~O~

**Small Parlour Upstairs**

"You wanted to see me Lady Grantham?"

"Yes, thank you Thomas." To his surprise, the great woman put shut her notebook and turned to face him. He knew the Countess was looking after the records of the house and patients. "I wonder if you would do me a personal favour, for myself and Lord Grantham."

"If I can." He said.

"Lady Strallen is insisting she come to tonight's benefit, I'm afraid though that with all of the patients and staff preparing, there aren't any spare hands to help her about the house." She paused here, unsure of how to continue. Thomas was genuinely surprised. Lady Grantham was almost never at a loss for words. "I understand it is unorthodox, and you are no longer in our employ- which is why I would consider it a great favour if you could see to her, I mean helping her around the booths, and to the drawing room, in and out of the car and so on."

"Be her escort." Thomas supplied. Cora nodded.

"Yes, something to that effect."

"Does Lord Grantham have anything to say for this?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm afraid I haven't asked him." She admitted. "He's been so busy lately, and he always likes for Carson to help her."

"Ladyship, if I may suggest you not tell him." Thomas was two steps ahead of her's. "If he were to see me helping Lady Strallen…it could simply be said I volunteered to." Lady Grantham's eyes danced, quite approving.

"Yes of course!" she said happily, unaware of the ex-footman's scheme. "Yes that would be fine! And it needn't be very much." She said. "You must enjoy yourself as well. The family will be there to help, only not all evening."

"Nonsense." Thomas said, quite beside himself at this new turn of events. "It would be my pleasure to be Lady Strallen's escort this evening." If he impressed the family tonight, especially with Lady Strallen (who suddenly had become the golden one since she got herself pregnant), that would certainly be to his benefit.

"Thank you Thomas, you don't know what a relief it is!" Lady Grantham said. "I hope I haven't kept you from your duties."

"None at all your Ladyship." He said, bowing from the neck, he took his leave, unable to reign in a smile. Looks like he'd get a foothold in the house once again. Sudden noise from the front hall made him stop. Lady Sybil and Mr. Crawley, along with Lady Mary and Doctor Clarkson were moving to the doorway to meet a wagon coming up the drive. O'Brian came to stand by him.

"Young William is back." She said and he nodded.

"Well, may as well go tell Daisy." He said and stalked off to the kitchen.

William needed to ride to Downton Abbey in the back of a wagon; it was the only way he could remain on the stretcher as the hospitals would not use the ambulance for only one soldier. Once he was laid out on the bed, Mary could properly see the young footman now. She covered her mouth, not one to scream, she couldn't help but gasp. William seemed all bandages, his young face fraught with pain and misery. Flesh was just beginning to heal; she could see bruising on his pale cheeks, his neck scarred in bizarre patterns from shrapnel.

"Why are his eyes covered?" she asked softly

"It keeps the sun from hurting his eyes." Sybil said, "We're to take them off tonight, to let him get used to the light again slowly."

"And his hand?" Mary asked, noting the linens on his injury were beginning to redden from all the movement.

"Most of it gone. I'll show you how to change the bandages but first we need to clean him up from traveling." Mary nodded after a moment.  
>"How hot should the water be?"<p>

"More warm than hot." Sybil said, and Mary went about her task. From the doorway, she could see Anna, beside her was young Daisy, peering out from the servant's entrance. Throwing a quick glance back toward William, Mary left the room for a moment. Daisy steeled herself, latching onto Anna's hand.

"Daisy," Mary said "I think you'd better wait a little while before you come and see him. Sybil and I will clean him up first." Daisy nodded slowly after a moment, her large blue eyes fixed on the doorway.

"If he needs anything…" she said softly, and Mary smiled kindly

"I promise we'll send for you as soon as possible."

"Come on, best not let Mrs. Hughes see you up here." Anna said to the little maid, and pulled her away from the door, apologizing quietly to Lady Mary.

"Mary-" Sybil's voice from the room reminded her she was still needed, and William was still waiting to be cleaned up.

~O~

**That Evening**

"It doesn't seem fair, having a party the night William comes back." Daisy said.

"What do you mean?" Anna asked

"It's not a party, it's a benefit silly." O'Brian said. "We're raising money, not spending it."

"Don't be mean." Anna said.

"I just meant that William can't have any fun with the rest of us. He likes music."

"Everyone does." Thomas muttered, "Daisy hold this mirror." She took it from him, holding it upright so he could see to put in his medal.

"What's that for?" she asked,

"I got it for bravery in the field." He said. O'Brian came over to him, holding her knitting.

"I didn't know you had that." She said and looked up at him. "Why didn't you say?"  
>"'Cause it's mine to say if I got it or not." He said, still fiddling with the clasp. The kitchen was quiet now, rather shocked that Thomas hadn't taken the opportunity to boast of earning a medal. Anna looked over at John, before handing him her mending.<p>

"Here, pins are always tricky." She said, taking the ribbon in her hand. Indeed, the medal had his name on it, shined to almost a mirror hue. "You've put quite a shine on that." She said, "Wear it down if you're not careful." And she pinned it just over his breast pocket, smoothing out his collar. "There." She said and offered him a smile.

"Is there some reason this kitchen is at a near standstill?" Mrs. Hughes asked "Might I remind you that guests will be arriving at eight?" and the staff quickly went back to work. Anna glanced over at Bates, who was putting up their sewing boxes.

"I'm sorry if we forget sometimes." Anna said quietly to Thomas.  
>"What?" he asked<p>

"That you fought too." She said. Thomas, looking clearly uncomfortable muttered some kind of 'thank you' before taking the mirror from the table where Daisy left it and hurrying upstairs. Bates came to stand beside Anna.

"Funny that." He said,

"What?"

"He looked pretty human right there."

~O~

**Upstairs**

"Do I look alright?" Matthew asked, and Sybil made him turn to face her,

"Here," she said, and straightened his collar, brushing off the collar and his shoulders. "A fitting display of our fine men overseas." She said. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I don't know." He said honestly. "I suppose a good deal of men I used to work under are all in there, still fighting and I'm…" he looked down at his half-empty sleeve.

"You did your bit." She said softly. "You aren't useless. Certainly not to me, not to Papa, nor to anyone else here. You're proof that one can come out of all this alright."

"Am I?" he asked softly. Sybil looked up at him, her hands stilled from fussing with his collar.

"Very much so." She said, and pressed a tender kiss to him.

"Thank you." He said, feeling himself relax a little. A glance at the slowly-filling room nearly dashed all that to pieces though. But Sybil's hand came around his.

"Courage." She said to him. He held out his arm to her, and she slipped her hand into the crook it, squeezing gently. "I'm right here." And they went in, Robert waiting in the doorway, smiling at them.

Outside in the bitter cold Thomas waited as the Grantham's car returned bearing the Dowager-Countess and Lady Strallen. Carson had beat him to the door, assisting first Violet, he nodded to her smiling before passing by her to Lady Strallen.

"Lady Strallen," he said, his bearing straight. "I'm to be your escort tonight." Somehow, he found himself quite proud.

"Why Thomas!" she smiled. "How good of you!" but her smile faded, "But you see I already have an escort, did Mama not tell you?" Someone else was coming around the other side of the car,

"Edith, you really should have waited!"

"This is my late husband's brother Sir Richard Strallen." Thomas felt himself woodenly bowing, once again cow-towing to the aristocracy.  
>"Pleasure sir." He murmured.<p>

"Edith it really is too cold for you to be out." Sir Richard said, ignoring Thomas.

"Go in without me." Edith said. "I'm absolutely roasting!"

"I'm afraid I must insist you come in now." Sir Richard said. Edith set her jaw, but took his arm.

"Thank you Thomas, for the thought." She said "It was very good of you."

"Not at all, Lady Strallen." He said quickly as Sir Richard pulled her along inside.

"Well if you're not seeing to her, you can help me!" the Dowager-Countess said "I see Cora has made no preparations for a slippery walkway!" so Thomas gave her his arm, moving slowly into the warm foyer

"May I take your coat your ladyship?" Thomas asked

"I'll take it thank you Thomas." Carson said, quickly coming forward. Once again, Thomas was rendered useless. He followed a small group into the foyer, which had been done over with a great banner. Tables were set up bearing punch and cakes and all sorts of sandwiches and tea-things. A stage had been set up for the musicians, who were tuning their instruments at the moment. Downton Abbey hadn't seen a night as lively as this in quite some time. There would be dancing and booths to purchase homemade crafts and war bonds and other little things to help the war effort.

"Good heavens." The Dowager-Countess said. "Is this a benefit or a church bazaar?"

"Don't be upset granny!" Mary said, coming to stand beside her. "It isn't as if we put up booths for games."

"I think the men might've liked that." Matthew said with a smile. "Did you see who Edith came in with?"

"Yes, its Sir Anthony's brother- Sir Richard Strallen." Mary said. "I am not quite sure but I believe Papa is only making up to him to please Edith." She said, watching as the newcomer to Downton tried to have Edith sit in the back away from the crowds.

"Edith tells me he's been fussing ever since he arrived. No doubt worried for his inheritance."

"How so?" Matthew asked absently, he scanned the crowds.

"If she's carrying a boy or not." Mary said quietly and he nodded suddenly

"Yes of course."

"I'm surprised she's managed to keep her temper this long." She commented. Matthew's gaze was once again lost in the crowd. The constant drone of conversation seemed too similar to the buzz of airplanes. Ladies heels clacking along the wooden floors could be gunshots. His felt his palm grow damp with sweat. Too many voices, too many people. All of them crowding around him, no clear way to the door- "Matthew?" Mary's voice startled him.

"Fine." He said automatically.

"You don't look it, you're pale." She took his arm, leading him away from the crowded room. Squeezing through a line of people, all of them wanting to take his hand and thank him made him break into a cold-sweat.

"Well done soldier."

"Thank you soldier."

"Evening soldier." Comments overlapped and he couldn't distinguish one person from another. All he knew was that Mary fairly yanked him through the crowd, excusing them.

"Shall I bring you upstairs?" she asked

"Somewhere where I can't hear anyone." He answered.

She brought him upstairs, up to the west wing where it was dark and quiet. Setting him on the bench in the hall, she gave him a glass of water, he didn't know where she'd got it from, but he took it.

"I'll go and find Sybil, you're not to move." She ordered and swished back down the hall, her heels muffled by the rugs. He sat there holding his glass of water, his eyes closed. Silence. It seemed to wrap itself around him, keeping the downstairs noise away from him. Through that heavy silence though, a little voice penetrated. He opened his eyes, looking up and down the hallway. At the far end, he could see a door propped open, the glow of a lamp within streamed out into the hall.

"Your Da will be here tomorrow." The voice was saying. Getting to his feet, Matthew made his way to the doorway, peering in. Little Daisy sat in a chair at the bedside. Young William, barely making a lump in the bed, was propped up by a few pillows. His chest rose and fell, eyes uncovered now. The young man's gaze shifted, and he blinked a few times.

"Sir." He rasped, and Daisy turned with a start.

"Oh Mr. Crawley!" she gasped. "I'm sorry. I'm not shirking my work. I promise I'm not. Mrs. Patmore said-"

"It's alright." He said, still looking at William. She smoothed her apron.

"I was just going down to fetch him a plate, do you want anything?"

"No. Thank you."

"Will- will you sit with him please?" she asked softly "I don't like him to be alone."

"Yes." He said, and she scurried off to her task.

"She fusses over me." William said with a smile. "It's alright though. Don't mind a bit of fussing."

"They said you couldn't hear." Matthew said, a little surprised.

"Just in the left ear." William said. "Right one works well as it usually did." He smiled to himself as Matthew took the empty chair by the bed.

"I never got a chance to thank you."

"Please don't." William said. "It wasn't much really."

"It certainly was." Matthew retorted. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here." It was a simple truth, and having said it out loud they both were quiet. Perhaps they both wouldn't have been alive if William hadn't shoved Matthew, and he in turn hadn't held onto the young man's sleeve, pulling him with him.

"How's that?" William asked after a moment, pointing to Matthew's empty sleeve. "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes it aches. Sybil calls it a phantom pain."

"I heard you and she got married." William said. "I'm very happy for you sir."

"Please don't call me that." Matthew said. "At least not when it's just us." William suddenly looked so very frail. His chest rattled, he wheezed and gasped. "Are you in any pain right now?" Matthew asked.

"Not much." He said. "Just had my medicine." He tried to shift himself up a little, Matthew got up, helping him as best he could to sit upright. "Doctor Clarkson said the casts will come off in a few weeks." They looked at his legs poking out from under the covers. "And then I'm to start trying to walk again."

"Will you leave service?" Matthew asked.

"Depends on how my rehabilitation goes." He shrugged. "Everyone seems pretty sure that I'll walk again, but there's always a chance."

"That doesn't matter." Matthew said. William smiled a little.

"Well it does to a point." He said.

"I'm just so glad." Matthew said, raw emotion hung in his voice. "I'm so glad you're alive, William." He smiled then. "I never had a brother." He looked up to the young footman's face, "I hope you know that you'll never be without a home. Sybil and I would be very happy to have you." He grasped William's hand firmly. "Walking or not."

"I'm glad you married her." William said suddenly.

"Why?"

"You seem yourself." William said. "You seem more honest. Not that you ever lied-" he said quickly "But you're honest with yourself. With how you feel. You always seemed better after you got a letter from her." Matthew smiled then

"I am better with her." He said. William's words struck him quite dumb. Of course he was better with Sybil. Of course he was honest with his feelings. She never gave him cause to feel anything but honest with her. It was a silent understanding between them that both deserved nothing less than their best, even when they were at their worst, even if it hurt.

"Matthew?" Sybil's voice down the hall made them both look up.  
>"I'm here." She appeared in the doorway.<br>"There you are," he stood up now, the worry on her face recalled to his mind that Mary had left him in quite a sorry state. Goodness knows what Sybil thought when she went looking for him "Mary said you weren't feeling well. Do you want to go?" she touched his arm, squeezing gently.

"I'm alright now." He said. "It was only so noisy downstairs."

"You're sure you're alright?" she asked,

"Yes I am." He said, "Really."

"Go ahead down, sir." William said. "Daisy'll be back any moment."

"I am glad someone is sitting up with you." Sybil said, "Can you reach the pull from where you are?" Matthew watched with some fondness as she lightly touched the bandages around William's face, tugging at the covers around him and seeing his glass was within reach. "You'll ring if you need anything?"

"Yes, thank you." William said.

"Don't hesitate at all." Sybil said "The way Papa is carrying on about your heroics- I doubt anyone would mind." William seemed embarrassed.

"Is- is he really?" he asked, and Sybil nodded. "Well there's a thing."

"You deserve it." Matthew said.

"I'll stop in before we leave to see how you are." Sybil said. "Goodnight for now."  
>"Goodnight."<p>

They passed Daisy in the hall who shut the door behind her to keep the noise from downstairs out.

"Are you really alright?" Sybil asked. Matthew squeezed her hand, releasing a deep breath.  
>"Sybil," he said, "Sybil do we have to stay very late tonight?"<br>"No of course not." She said. "Why? Do you want to go home now?"

"I wouldn't like to insult your mama." He said. "But I wouldn't want to stay for much longer."

"Of course." She said. "Is anything the matter?"

"No." he said. "Only…I'd rather have you to myself tonight is all." He smiled rather cheekily at her, catching her off-guard. She didn't know what to say for a moment.

"Well- I suppose we can make our excuses in a little while."

"An hour or two is more than enough." He agreed, and he took her arm, pressing a gentle kiss to the patch of skin revealed on her wrist from her glove. By now she was blushing, but her smile said that she was anything but embarrassed. Arm-in-arm they went downstairs, quite eager to see the clock strike ten.


	10. Chapter 10

_Darling readers I haven't forgotten. Here AT LAST is chapter ten! More Matthew/Sybil goodness, and trouble with Sir Richard and Edith come to an end…or do they? Read on, review if the story moves you to. Thanks! darthsydious_

* * *

><p><strong>Early the Next Morning<strong>

Sybil was roused by the smell of fragrant tea and warm morning cake. Shifting her feet under the blankets, finding they were cold, she searched for Matthew's usually toasty toes. Realizing that his side of the bed was empty, she opened her eyes to see Matthew balancing a tray on his good arm as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

"What's this?" she asked sleepily as he set the tray down on the bedside table and then kissed her good morning.

"It's my way of thanking you." He said.

"For what, for heaven's sake?" she asked, quite shocked and touched by his gesture.

"For last night." He said. "And I thought it would be nice if we had breakfast in bed." She was smiling a little, looking over at the tray. Sweet morning cake, toast, a dish of jam and something else covered up to keep warm. Besides this there was a pot of good strong breakfast tea. She looked over at him climbing back into bed.

"Good heavens you didn't go downstairs like that did you?" for he wore his pyjamas (which was odd, since he certainly didn't go to bed in them).

"No, I asked Molesley to slip a tray up the backstairs and leave it at the door." He said, once the tray was settled between them.

"Oh." She turned the cups over, "Tea?"

"Yes thank you." they looked over the tray, finding their favorites had been made. "Mrs. Bird seems to have slipped a few things on the menu that I didn't ask for." He said, taking the lids off the dishes. "Mm kidneys and toast."

"Share-" she said as he began to pile a few on his toast points.

"Oh very well." He said with not-quite mock resignation. The morning was leisurely spent picking over the tray until Sybil realized it was well past ten.

"Everyone will wonder where we are." She said with a small sigh, pushing back the covers. Despite the late hour, and knowing how she was needed, Sybil couldn't quite feel guilty for staying in bed so late. Matthew was in a good mood, he seemed to have slept that night, not that much sleeping had been done…but he admitted what sleep he did have was deep and dreamless. During breakfast he was merry and spoke freely, a habit he was slowly getting back into with her.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked, swinging her feet out from under the covers. Truth be told, he had been thinking about his conversation with Edith the day before. About speaking to Sybil, about starting a family.

"Nothing that can't keep." He said. "Actually I was thinking we haven't had a morning to ourselves in quite some time."

"Not since London." She agreed;

"Leave that." He said, as she began to clean up the tray. "Let Molesley take care of it."

"We'll have breakfast things all over the bed." She insisted, and got up, putting it back on the bedside table. "What must I look like?" she murmured, going to the mirror. He appeared behind, her placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

"Lovely." He said.

"You're terribly nice this morning." She said.

"Am I? I thought I was always nice."

"More so than usual." She said. "If I didn't know better, I would say that you want something Matthew Crawley." She turned around then, looking up into his tired eyes. "What is it?"

"I-" he found himself hesitating. "I was only thinking…how lucky Edith is." Sybil frowned a moment, not catching his meaning. "I mean- having a baby." She lifted her eyebrows then.

"Matthew…" she murmured, "Matthew is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Well, I suppose so. Yes it was." He admitted finally.

"Why didn't you say so, for heaven's sake?"

"I thought you might not be too keen on it, having one right off I mean." He shrugged.

"Whatever would I- good heavens we're married, whatever else did you think we're here for? What did you think would happen between us?" she asked, almost laughing. "I should like to have a baby too, despite what people think about my choice of politics."

"I only thought…I don't know. I suppose I was being foolish, thinking you wouldn't…want a baby with me."

"Good grief, if I didn't want your children, I wouldn't have married you!" Sybil said, and laughing, embraced him. Tilting her head up, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Hold me properly." She said and he let go of her hip to wrap his good arm around her waist, pressing her to him. "If its children you want, then we only have to keep on as we have and eventually one will come along." He laughed outright then. Almost mischievously, he began to lead her away from the wardrobe. Seeing his intent, she resisted at first, but he reeled her in. "Matthew, oh no we can't- we're needed at Downton, it's past ten already and- and-" by then he'd silence her the only way he knew how. In a moment, Sybil quite forgot about getting dressed or that it was past ten.

~O~

**Downton Abbey**

"I hope Sybil is alright." Cora said, "It's nearly luncheon."

"I'm sure she and Matthew are perfectly fine." Robert said, glancing through the mail.

"You don't think something's happened do you?"

"No." he looked over at her "If I recall correctly, we had a few late mornings when we were younger."

"Robert…" she said, but her cheeks turned a rosy hue as she suppressed a smile.

"I'm to go to a supper in London," he said after a moment, "Why don't you come with me? We could make a thing of it."

"But what about the house?" she asked, "I've so much to do here-"

"Mary can see to it." Robert said. "She's more than capable."

"Well…I suppose." She relented, and then smiled over to him. "Yes of course I'll come. I'll have O'Brian pack my things right away." Robert turned back to his desk, pleased.

"Good heavens, is that Edith?"

"What?" Cora stopped now "What on earth is she doing here?" Cora stayed at the window now as the car came to a stop. Carson helped Lady Edith down, she appeared to be quite upset. Carson was at a good trot to catch up with her, attempting to reach the parlor before she did.

"Lady Strallen-" he said,

"Edith!" Cora said,

"Thank you Carson." Robert said as Edith eased herself onto the sofa, quite red in the face. O'Brian seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, fanning Edith.

"Darling what is it?" Cora asked, "Carson-" she held out her hand "Carson fetch Mrs. Hughes, have her make a compress, quickly!"

"No Mama, it isn't that, it's not the baby." Edith said, Robert nodded for Carson to go anyway before seating himself at his desk again.

"What is it then?"

"Oh it's nothing that anyone can help with." She said "I was only so angry, and I saw your car coming back from town so I had Ellen flag it down for me."

"Well something must have upset you."

"Is it that brother of Sir Anthony's?" Robert asked. "He seemed well enough yesterday."

"Humph."

"Come upstairs with me and help me pack." Cora said, "You can tell me what happened." Heaving a sigh, Edith grasped the arm of the couch, grunting as she stood up. Robert made to stand, then sat again, unsure if she wanted help or not. Edith was determined all throughout her pregnancy that she not be helped.

~O~

**Cora's dressing room**

"He wants to contest the will?" Cora asked, she handed O'Brian another skirt from the wardrobe. Edith reclined on the chaise, a stiff bolster behind her to keep her nearly upright. "Whatever for?"

"He wants the estate whether or not the child is a boy or not." Edith said, fiddling with the tassels on her coat. "He's been after me to sign something he's had written up ever since he arrived."

"He what?" Cora was troubled now; she set aside the dress in her hands, moving to take a corner of the chaise.

"I can't remember properly what it's for, just the simple answer that whatever the sex of the baby, I relinquish everything to him."

"He can't do that!" Cora said. "Neither can you…I should imagine. The estate isn't in your name."

"Well…no." Edith said frowning. "I don't understand it I told you. It's all so complicated. I wish Anthony had explained it to me properly!" she kicked a pillow at the end of the chaise.

"Have you talked to Matthew about it? If Sir Richard is trying to swindle you-"

"I don't even know what he's trying to do!" Edith insisted. "I only know he's desperate for me to sign whatever it is he's got."

"It all sounds very suspicious if you ask me."

"I expected him to bring Helena," Edith said "His wife-" Cora nodded, "but he's left her in London. That isn't like him."

"I still would feel better if you spoke to Matthew about this. He'll be sure to help you if he can."

"But Granny's had him to tea already, and put it quite bluntly he's not to bother me." Edith said.

"I doubt very much that will keep someone like Sir Richard away, despite your grandmother's 'persuasive' ways."

"No." Edith said frowning. "He called today while she was out. He was rather gruff with me." Cora took her daughter's hand, shocked. "He was rude and used unpleasant language."

"I never-!" Cora got to her feet, her heels muffled by the rug as she paced the room. "O'Brian, go and fetch Lord Grantham please."

"Yes your ladyship." O'Brian seemed rather smug at this and hurried off. If anyone could set things right, it would be the Lord and Lady of Downton.

"I think he's just upset about his chance of losing the house." Edith said. "After all the estate has been in the Strallen family for years-"

"That's still no excuse for bullying you!" Cora snapped. "It's poor breeding indeed, pushing you like this, you're still in mourning for heaven's sake." Sudden footsteps made them all start, Robert nearly slid to a stop as he came through the door.  
>"What is it? What's wrong?"<p>

"Nothing! For heavens' sake!" Edith said,

"This awful Sir Richard is bullying Edith about giving up the baby's inheritance." Cora said.

"Hmm." He nodded "Yes Mama told me she'd had him to tea. She said he was less than favorable to her terms."

"He was by again today." Cora said. "And Edith said he's been very rude to her."

"I don't see what any of us can do." Edith said. "It isn't against the law to be rude."

"I still don't like the idea of your being accosted by him every day during calling hours." Robert said.

"Oh I wish Thomas worked for us." Cora sighed.

"What on Earth for?"

"If we still employed him we could send him along with her, just so she's not alone if Sir Richard decides to accost her again." Cora sighed, not quite certain how to say what she meant.

"Begging your pardon." O'Brian stood in the doorway.

"Yes O'Brian what is it?" Robert asked.

"I think, perhaps if I asked Lieutenant Barrow, if it could be put to him by a friend…" Cora's eyes lit up, glad someone understood her meaning.

"Yes but what good would it do even if he agreed?" Edith asked. "He's here all day. I'm certainly not."

"Oh darling, why don't you stay, just until you have the baby?" Cora begged, eyes alight with the idea. "You've only until January anyway. It would be nice to have the baby born here."

"All my things- the nursery is set up there-"

"It wouldn't be forever." Cora said. "Please Edith, for the baby's sake, if not for yours."

"Do you really think Sir Anthony would have wanted you to be bullied like this? Two ladies are no real defense against a man. I'd feel much better if you were here, where I can protect you." Robert asked, and Edith sighed heavily, leaning back into the cushions.

"Yes of course." She said. "I suppose…I suppose I'll come. Just until after January." Wearily, she shut her eyes, resting her head against her cheek.

"Lie down for a little while dear," Cora said. "O'Brian, go and fetch a cool washcloth, I'll finish my packing once Lady Edith is settled."

"Yes M'lady." Edith cracked an eye open

"Where are you going?"

"Papa and I are going to London, just for the evening, we'll be back tomorrow morning." Cora said. "Do you want me to stay?"

"No, no I should think Carson can take care of me, and Mary is here as well."

"Alright." Miss O'Brian appeared again, a basin and washcloth in hand.

"Mr. Crawley sent a note." She said, handing it to Lord Grantham.

"Hm."

"What is it?" Cora asked, "Is she ill?"

"No, no, they're only taking a day for themselves is all." He pocketed the note "Which reminds me, I'd better see to my packing."

~O~

**That Evening…**

Mary was still fiddling with her bracelet clasp as she hurried downstairs. Carson was at the foot, waiting.  
>"Has Captain Crawley telephoned?"<p>

"He did, they are on their way now, and thanked you for the dinner invitation."

"What about Lady Strallen, is she coming down?"

"Against Lord Grantham's instructions, yes." Clearly the butler was not pleased. Mary smiled at this.

"Where is she?"

"The drawing room. Lieutenant Barrow is sitting with her."

"Thomas?" Mary frowned. "What for?"

"Lady Grantham thought it would be best, given Sir Richard's recent conduct she not be left un-escorted."

"Oh." She stopped suddenly. "Good heavens is he joining us for dinner?"

"I think-" the bell rang, interrupting him. "Excuse me." He bowed quickly and hurried to answer it.

"It cannot be Matthew or Sybil already" She said, following him. "Perhaps it's Granny." The bell rang again, and then someone began tapping on the glass with their cane as Carson reached the door.

"May I help you?" Carson quipped, now upset that the visitor was so impatient. The door was pushed open, in strode Sir Richard. "I beg your pardon sir but-"

"Where is Lady Edith?"

"Lady _Strallen_," Carson corrected, now insulted on the family's behalf "Is-"

"Detained." Mary said, coming forward. "What business can you have with her?"

"I've come to take her home." Mary arched a brow,

"Really? I was aware she was already." He sighed heavily, as if containing his anger took a great deal of strength.

"I went back to her grandmother's to apologize to her, but I was told she was here."

"She is, and you're not to bother her." Mary said stiffly.

"She is in my care now-"

"I'm afraid she's not." Mary interrupted. "She's our concern."

"Not until the child is born and we know for certain." Sir Richard snapped.

"Certain of what?" Mary asked. "That it's a girl? In which case you'll merely go back to London and forget your brother ever married her? Or are you suggesting the child is no relation to you at all?"

"I never insinuated such a thing!" he growled back at her.  
>"Do forgive me, you've been carping and biting at my sister ever since you've arrived, honestly I don't know what else to think other than that she's betrayed your late brother somehow." Sir Richard steeled himself, his gloved hands clenching over the handle of his cane.<p>

"My brother, god rest his soul, married a woman almost thirty years younger than him. She has Downton Abbey, and her family to look after her. She has no need for the estate."

"And you do, I suppose?" Mary asked, "Tell me, what would a man such as yourself want with a country estate? You can't possibly mean to sell it, unless the rumors are true about your gambling debts." Sir Richard lifted his hand, and for a moment, Mary thought he would strike her. She found herself visibly flinching, and cursed herself for appearing so weak. Carson stepped forward, his shoes clicking on the marble. Hand shaking, from rage or fear of nearly losing control, Sir Richard slowly clenched his hand into a fist, and brought it to his side.

"You've no right to speak of things you don't know of."

"I know you've treated my sister with so little disregard that she felt the need to move twice." Mary said, strength renewed. "You've wheedled and worked at her until she's run off her feet worrying when you're going to come and bark at her again."

"Let me see her." He demanded.

"I shan't." she stuck her chin out. Mary didn't really know what to believe Sir Richard capable of. She thought Sir Richard might scare her, but she never expected him to really strike her. Mary felt herself stumbling back, a hand over her left cheek, feeling it hot and stinging. Carson was red in the face; she could hear Sir Richard running across the foyer, Carson steadying her.

"Edith!" she gasped, pushing out of the butler's grasp and rushing after Sir Richard. "Edith! Edith!" she screeched, tearing after them. What in heaven's she could do against a grown man, Mary didn't know, but it would certainly be more than what Edith could do.

She slid to a stop at the drawing room door, just in time to see Thomas and Sir Richard wrestle to the floor. A vase was smashed, Edith by the far wall, clutching Thomas' pistol. Mary climbed over the low table, taking the gun from her. Sir Richard was older and certainly had more experience in fighting, but Thomas had youth on his side.

"That is enough!" Carson growled, Thomas landed a good solid 'crack' on Sir Richard. He stumbled back, landing on the sofa opposite. "On your feet sir!" Carson grabbed the man by the arm. Bates, having heard all the commotion came up, Mrs. Hughes close behind.  
>"Mr. Bates, send for the police!" Mary ordered, "Thomas, please take this." She gave him his gun. "Why on earth did you give it to her?"<p>

"Lady Strallen wasn't likely to be able to defend herself if I were knocked out." He shrugged. "Shall I hold him or you Mr. Carson?" a teasing sting in his tone, for the butler seemed quite at his wits end, trying to keep the struggling man still.

"It isn't necessary." Sir Richard got to his feet, trying to shake out of Carson's grip. If he was ashamed, they couldn't quite tell, but he appeared rattled. "I'll go." He turned to Edith. "I'm staying at the estate until I know when the child is born." With that he picked up his hat and cane and left, Carson following close behind.

"Are you alright?" Mary asked, Edith, trembling nodded a little.  
>"Yes…yes I think so. I want to sit…" reaching for the back of the sofa.<br>"Thomas help me." Mary said and the former footman took Lady Strallen's arm. "Edith I think you ought to go upstairs, I'll have Ethel bring you a tray." Silent for a moment, she stood between Thomas and her sister, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Yes," she said finally. "Yes I'll go up now I think." Thomas seemed reluctant to pass her on to Mrs. Hughes, but a man of any kind upstairs was not done. So he stepped aside as soon as Mrs. Hughes had a firm grip on Lady Edith's arm.

Carson was seeing Sir Richard to his car when another pulled up and out stepped Matthew and Sybil.  
>"Good evening Sir Richard." The man said nothing but tapped on the glass for his chauffer to go.<p>

"What's he doing here?" Sybil asked Carson.

"He…was attempting to see Lady Strallen."

"Again? Good grief. What for?"

"No good reason I'm afraid." Lieutenant Barrow said, he saluted Matthew, "Sir."

"It seems Lieutenant Barrow did the family a good deed." Carson said. "I don't condone brawling of any kind, mind."

"Brawling?" Sybil asked, quite excited now.

"Sybil!" Matthew said, surprise and caution in his voice. They all filed into the foyer, Carson reaching for their things.

"It seems Sir Richard was intent on taking Lady Strallen home, and she wouldn't have it." Thomas said.

"And you convinced him otherwise, is that it?" Matthew asked, "Well, Lord Grantham will certainly be pleased to hear about that." He clapped Thomas on the shoulder, smiling.  
>"You look as though you could do with a drink." He said, and both Thomas and Carson looked at eachother, then at Matthew, not quite certain who he was talking to. "The both of you." He added.<p>

"I certainly don't, sir." Carson said quickly. "I shall fetch something for you Captain Crawley, if you like."

"Yes, and Thomas too." Sybil said. "He ought to have a little something."

"I don't think Lord Grantham would approve-" Carson attempted.

"Nonsense." Sybil said. "He's done us all a good deed. Papa would be thrilled with him. Anyway he's not a footman anymore, he's a soldier in the army, an officer besides." Argument clearly sound, Sybil smiled, quite pleased with herself. Matthew could not hide his smile from the disapproving Butler. Carson mumbled something to the effect of

"Yes of course."

"Where is Mary?" Sybil asked as Carson held the door to the drawing room.

"I believe she is seeing Lady Strallen up to her room."

"I'll go up and see them then," Sybil said to Matthew, "I won't be a moment." He nodded, already pouring a brandy for himself and Thomas.

~O~

**Upstairs**

"Edith why ever didn't you say he was such a beast?" Mary asked.

"I think he was really very sorry after." Edith said.

"Edith!"

"He wasn't always like this." She said. "You didn't know him before; when Anthony and I were married we all got along very well."

"I pity his wife." Mary said. "If he's been like this since Sir Anthony died, she must have the patience of Job." Edith shrugged tiredly as Mrs. Hughes helped her out of her dress.

"I haven't heard from Helena in such a long time. I suppose she feels slighted by me."  
>"Why should she feel that way? You haven't done anything but mourn your husband. That's not exactly against the law!" Edith gasped aloud, dropping her gloves as she reached for the chair before the vanity to brace herself.<p>

"Oh my lady, do sit down!" Mrs. Hughes reached for her, smoothing her arm affectionately. Twenty years or so of watching young girls grow did affect the heart.

"Edith what is it?"Mary asked.

"Mrs. Hughes, did you say that my sister was coming?"

"Yes, they should be along shortly."

"I think we ought to send for Doctor Clarkson too." Mary reached for Edith's hand, quite worried now.

"Edith?"

"I think- I hope it's just the excitement of tonight but Mary…Oh Mary I think I'm to have this baby tonight."


	11. Chapter 11

_Hello dear readers, I'm so grateful for your patience! Here is chapter eleven. Edith is having her baby. Mary receives a private phone-call and Thomas explains his attachment to Lady Strallen. Sybil makes a rather important discovery about her feelings for Matthew. _

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><p>"What?" Mary gasped,<p>

"Please," Edith said. She seemed remarkably calm for just admitting she was in labor. "Please just send for Dr. Clarkson." There was a knock on the door

"It's me," Sybil poked her head in, "I wanted to see how you were." She said.

"It depends on how you look at it." Edith said, wincing. Mrs. Hughes was helping her back to the bed.

"Whatever is it?" Sybil asked, worried now.

"Edith's having her baby." Mary said.

"Impossible! You're not due until January."

"Yes, I know…" concern in her eyes, Edith supported her belly, "But unless I ruined my carpet for no reason-"

"Edith!" Mary was quite shocked and didn't know what else to say.

"Good grief what else would you call it?" she snapped,

"Never mind." Sybil said. "It doesn't matter anymore. Mrs. Hughes will go and send someone," the housekeeper was already nodding, heading for the door.

"Right away your ladyship-"

"And have Mrs. Patmore start a pot of water, clean rags, I'm sure you know what else to bring."

"Yes of course." Mrs. Hughes had been in the household long enough to know what to do when a baby was on its way. Indeed she'd been by Lady Grantham's side when Lady Mary and Lady Edith were born. By the time Lady Sybil came, Miss O'Brian was there and insisted she help her ladyship.

"What about Mama and Papa?" Edith asked as Mary tried to keep her propped up, "They'll want to know."

"They're at a dinner party aren't they?"

"We'll be able to call them." Mary said, looking at Mrs. Hughes,

"I'll arrange it." She said before heading downstairs, leaving them to tend their ailing sister.

~O~

Mrs. Hughes came clattering down the front stairs, propriety taking a backseat to emergency.

"Mrs. Hughes-" Carson said, seeing her from the drawing room.

"I haven't a moment to spare, you'll have to lecture me later." She said, already at a brisk jog downstairs.

"What's happened?" he asked, glancing back up the stairway.

"Lady Strallen's having her baby. I don't know if it was the excitement, but it's coming just the same."

"Impossible." The butler stuck his chin out, red in the face at such a tender subject.

"I'm afraid not." Mrs. Hughes said with a shrug. "Babies do come when they're ready." He watched her retreat down the stairs.

"What if this one isn't?" he called after, about to hurry down.

"Carson?" Matthew stood in the doorway. "What's all the noise?" he looked helplessly from the stairs to Captain Crawley.

"It…seems Lady Strallen…she is having her baby tonight." Thomas came to stand beside Matthew.

"It was his doing then." Thomas said quietly. The others turned to look at him.  
>"What?"<p>

"Do you mean Sir Richard?" Matthew asked.

"He did push her, before I knocked him over, that's how the vase was smashed."

"Do you think it hurt the baby?" Matthew wondered aloud. Now Carson didn't know where to look.

"Certainly not!" a pause. "Well I don't know." Flustered and unsure, he looked at his feet and then up at Captain Crawley and Lieutenant Barrows "At any rate we will send for Dr. Clarkson."

"I'll go." Thomas said. "Mr. Bates can't drive."

"The car's been sent back and Lord and Lady Grantham took the other car to London." Matthew said.

"There's a motorcycle in the garage." Thomas said. "I'll take that."

"Can you drive it?" Matthew asked and he nodded. It wasn't exactly a lie. He knew the basics. Anyway it couldn't be very hard. "What's a motorcycle doing in the garage anyway?"

"I think it's for the army." Thomas said with a shrug. "It's official-looking anyway."

"Very well." Matthew said. "You'd best go now then." Carson did a double take.

"Captain Crawley I don't know if Lord Grantham would approve."

"He isn't here at the moment, and someone has to go. Thomas is quite right. No one else can go, unless you're volunteering." Thomas was already heading for the door, hat on his head. "Best send a telegram to them straight away, unless we can telephone. I don't suppose we could reach them where they're dining."

"We have the Berkley Square number." Carson said.

"We'll just have to keep trying that until we get an answer. And we'd better ring the Dowager Countess."

"Right away sir." Carson said.

~O~

**Upstairs**

"I don't understand." Mary said worriedly, "how could it come so soon?"

"It isn't very soon," Sybil said, "She wasn't due for a few weeks at least."

"Won't that hurt it? It coming soon?" Sybil finished washing her hands, shutting the water off.

"I don't know, hopefully not. If we're lucky, Edith won't have Mama's luck with children."

"Sybil!" Mary gasped, shocked by her sister's words.

"It isn't a slight," Sybil said gently "That isn't how I meant it. But it is a fact that Mama had difficulty with all of us. _You_ were early."

"Well I don't see how-"

"There isn't any sense squabbling about it now." Sybil said. "Edith needs us tonight, and I need your help." Mary nodded.

"What shall I do?"

"Wash your hands, and see that there are plenty of clean cloths. You'll want to change your dress and find an apron too."

"What about you?" Mary asked, eyeing her sister's evening gown, her gloves already gone, tossed on Edith's vanity.

"Find me an apron if you can."

"I'll see if there's anything in my closet to fit you, I'll have to see what Mrs. Hughes has for aprons." Mary said and hurried out, nearly running into Mrs. Hughes who carried one of the ice buckets.

~O~

**London**

"I've never been more humiliated in my life." Robert muttered, holding the door for Cora.

"Darling, please don't take offence. They were simply trying to do you a good turn."

"A good turn, I should be out there- I thought I'd receive my marching orders. Instead it's all for show." He set his hat and gloves down, quite resigned. "I'm not needed."

"Yes you are." Cora said firmly. "Don't ever think that you're not."

"I'm too old to go to war. What other use could I have for my country?"

"Taking care of Downton, so that soldiers who do come back have a place to put their heads, to take care of me, and the girls." He smiled bittersweetly.

"Thank you my love." He sighed. "I am sorry if I'm sulking."

"It's understandable if you feel that way-" the telephone rang. "-but in a way I am glad you're not going away." It rang again.

"Are you?"

"Robert I couldn't bear it if you went away again. All those years ago you left us for the war and I spent every night thinking that I'd never see you again. I couldn't bear that again." He smiled warmly, approaching her; he slipped his arms about her.

"Neither could I."

"Aren't you going to answer the telephone?"

"Later." He said, ducking his head to kiss her.

"It hasn't stopped." She murmured, her eyes opened a little. "What if it's an emergency?"

"It will keep." He swept her up in his arms, bringing her up the stairs to their bedroom.

~O~

**Downton Abbey**

"No answer." Matthew said, and finally hung up. "They must still be out." The front door opened as he hung up, it was Thomas, a little worse for wear, beside him Dr. Clarkson.

"I thought I'd be finished for the day when I left earlier." He said, still in uniform.

"I don't suppose an offer of dinner would recompense."

"It will be welcome after I see the patient." Dr. Clarkson said with a smile "Is she upstairs?"

"Yes I'll show you, thank you Thomas."

"Sir-" and Matthew and the doctor jogged up the stairs.

~O~

**Upstairs**

Mrs. Hughes tied the apron around Sybil as she wrung out a damp washcloth.

"Thank you Mrs. Hughes, will you see if Dr. Clarkson has arrived yet?"

"Yes your ladyship-" the door opened before she could finish, Dr. Clarkson and Matthew.

"Dr. Clarkson is here Edith," Matthew said, and all four women breathed a sigh of relief. Approaching Edith, he set his bag down, removing the cool washcloth from her forehead.

"Mary," Sybil said "Could you and Matthew go downstairs, let the staff know to have their dinner." Sybil meant that Edith might not want a crowd when Dr. Clarkson examined her. Understanding, Matthew quickly held the door for Mary, nodding to Sybil.

"Poor Edith." She murmured as they headed downstairs.

"I'd better try your parents again."

"I'll call." Mary offered. "You must be famished."

"Not really no." he said. "I'll have a drink though." He looked at her,

"None for me, but do help yourself." She said, reaching for the phone. To her surprise it rang.

"Good heavens." She said, a little rattled from the unexpected noise. "Perhaps it's Mama- Hello?"

Matthew only heard her answer before he stepped into the drawing room. He was surprised to see Thomas there.

"I was offered a drink." He said quickly.

"So you were." Matthew said. "I dislike drinking alone anyway." Thomas already held a glass of brandy, so Matthew took a glass, and the former footman poured him a glass. "Thanks." They drank in silence for a while.

"Is…Lady Strallen alright?"

"I suppose she is." Matthew said, frowning only a little at his curiosity. "Why do you ask?" Thomas shrugged.

"I'm not after her, if that's what you're worried for."

"That isn't-"

"It's only that she was telling me her concerns about Sir Richard and when he came in she had such a look." Thomas lit a cigarette, taking a quick drag. He knew Matthew would never rat out a fellow soldier.

"You said you thought Sir Richard was the cause of this."

"He pushed her." Thomas said. "Suppose I'll have to explain about the vase."

"It wasn't your fault, and you certainly did a good thing, taking care of her. One would think by your actions you were rather fond of her." Matthew said. Thomas looked up rather sharply.

"I'm not, I said I wasn't." he said.

"You must feel something." Matthew said with a small grin.

"Not_ that_ way." Thomas said. "Lady Edith and I used to talk sometimes, when she'd be waiting downstairs. We were sort of...friends I suppose."

"Really?" Matthew asked,

"Is it so shocking?"

"Not at all." He said. "It's only that you seemed like a-"

"A loner?"

"Yes." Matthew said.

"We both were, in a way." Thomas said. "Suppose we both knew we had that in common." he was thoughtful then, considering his brandy. "I liked that she was honest with me. Told me things I knew she wouldn't share with her sisters." Matthew frowned

"What sort of things?" Thomas looked up sharply, realizing his words seemed to imply something of Lady Strallen.

"Nothing serious sir, just silly things. Jokes and books...the like." Matthew seemed to accept this, and Thomas smiled inwardly, relieved.

"In any case I believe she looks at you as a friend." he said finally, finishing his brandy.

"I should probably get downstairs." Thomas said, he set his glass down. "Thank you for the brandy sir."

"Lieutenant." Matthew nodded, following him out.

Mary was still on the telephone

"No it isn't that at all! Please don't think that. Of course I would like it but my sister- no- the other she's rather- she's having a baby- yes tonight you see." A pause "In January? I was coming back in January. Oh I see." Nails tapping on the wood stopped. "Really? Well I- no I don't think they would object. I- I'd like it very much." He could tell she was smiling as she spoke. "Yes I really would. Yes I- oh…no I'm not upset! I'm just surprised. It isn't the sort of thing one asks over the telephone. What? Yes I would prefer if you asked me in person. Yes I would." A laugh. "No you'll simply have to wait until January when you visit."

"Mary." Matthew called, finally deciding he was being rude, despite his curiosity. The curtain to the telephone slid open, "Mary have you called them yet?"

"Oh my heavens!" she gasped, "Crewe I have to go, yes my sister- my god I have to make a call, I was about to when you rang." More noise on the other end of the line. "No it's not your fault I was distracted. Yes goodbye, I'll call you soon- what? Oh you're leaving- well write to me then. Yes- yes goodbye!" she hung up and then picked up the receiver again, ignoring Matthew's obvious grin at her.

"I never took you for one to be silly over anybody." He said smiling.

"Hush I'm on the phone." She said and waited for the operator.

Mrs. Hughes came down the stairs,

"Mr. Crawley, Doctor Clarkson has asked for you."

"Me?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll keep trying them." Mary said, and so Matthew hurried upstairs, Mrs. Hughes close behind.

Dr. Clarkson met him in the hall, through the open doorway, he could see Edith between Anna and Sybil, walking up and down the room, tears streaking down her face.

"Count your steps out, lean on Anna and me." Sybil said, Clarkson shut the door a little, muffling Edith's cries.

"As you already know, Lady Strallen is having her baby tonight after all." He said.

"Yes. They said."

"Lord Grantham is out of town, which puts you in the position as head of the house, at least until he returns."

"Well he never- shouldn't we defer to Carson really?"

"In household matters yes, even in certain things concerning the family, but I think Lord Grantham would have liked me to consult you in the event I could not reach him." Dr. Clarkson said. "The child is slow in coming, with Lady Sybil here, I am confident that this birth is nothing I cannot handle." He laced his fingers together, "However, the child is still early, should anything go wrong I need your permission that I have any means necessary to save the mother."

"Survival of the fittest?" Matthew asked hoarsely. The idea of losing Edith or the baby was not one he liked to think of.

"Unfortunately." Dr. Clarkson said. Slowly, Matthew nodded.

"Yes…yes you must do whatever is in your power."

"Thank you Mr. Crawley." He opened the bedroom door again, for a moment he saw Sybil, she looked up at him. Edith's form came into view, she ambled between the two women. Her face red and damp with perspiration. Her knees buckled, and Matthew found himself hurrying forward, catching her shoulders as Anna and Sybil braced Edith by the arms.

"Lean on me now," he said.

"Mr. Crawley, a gentleman shouldn't-" Mrs. Hughes began,

"I'm stronger than Anna." He said. "Here take my jacket, it's boiling here." And he shrugged out of it and rolled up his shirtsleeves before Mrs. Hughes could say another word. "Have you got her arm Sybil?"

"Yes I do, we're walking her up and down, she must keep moving, until the baby is ready."

"Very well. Edith are you alright?" she groaned in response, eyes screwed shut as she sagged in their arms. "No-no-no, up we go." He warned and steadied her between them. Sybil looked at Matthew, eyes shining with admiration at her husband, unsure of why he decided to come in and assist in delivering Edith's baby.

"Lean against the vanity, count to five, and then we'll start across the room again." Sybil said, looking at Matthew. He turned back to her; eyes meeting over Edith's bent head. _"My heavens, I love him."_ She thought under his gaze. For a moment she felt as if Matthew were looking at her thoughts, and she found herself hoping he'd heard what she'd thought to herself. Was he thinking the same thing? Did he love her? Before she could wonder any more, Edith had counted to five and was ready to walk again. Slowly, regretfully, she broke away, leading her sister across the room again.


	12. Chapter 12

_What do you guys put up with me for? I hope you think my stuff is worth all the crap I make you put up with. Here it is FINALLY chapter twelve! Enjoy my pretties. If I could send baked goods by internet I would. - darthsydious_

* * *

><p>The house was dark and quiet, a few lights left on here and there. In a dimly lit room in the west wing lay William, Daisy was on his good side, so he could hear what she was so quietly saying.<p>

"Lady Strallen's had her babies. Well…I suppose baby now."

"What do you mean?" he asked softly,

"I mean she had twins, but one of them didn't live. I don't know why, no one would tell me. The first one out was dead is all they told me, but the second one's alive."

"I wish I'd had my strength, could give that man such a doing." William said, looking up at the ceiling.

"I think Thomas did enough." Daisy smiled, secretly pleased that even lying in his sick-bed William wanted to make some kind of defense.

"Did he? There's something you never thought you'd see in your life."

"Don't be mean; after all, Thomas hasn't been in quite some time."

"Hm. War makes men of us all, so they say." He folded his hands over the blankets. "Go on, tell me what else, is the other baby a boy or girl?"

"I don't know." Daisy said with a shrug.

"What?"

"I never asked, and I haven't heard any names yet."

"Can't you go and see?"

"I've got to go down and light the fires anyway, I'll see if I can't find anything else out before I come up with your tray."

"Hurry back." He said, and she held onto his hand just a moment longer, smiling at him. The servant's door down the hall opened and shut, and Daisy was off, out the door before the person knew she was tarrying.

Matthew slid down the wall to rest. Elbow and arm on his knees he sighed heavily. Sybil sank down beside him, stretching her legs out before her. Wearily, they shut their eyes a moment, listening to the other's gentle breathing. Waiting. Waiting for Dr. Clarkson to let them in again to see Edith and hopefully their newborn relative. He'd ordered everyone out as soon as the first had come out stillborn. Mrs. Hughes was rushed in and Sybil shoved out, forced to wait on the other side of the door, ear pressed against it, a huddled sobbing mess. Useless to Dr. Clarkson. She felt foolish for letting her emotions get the better of her. She was a better nurse than that. Only Matthew holding her back kept her from bursting into her sister's room again. The doctor had help. She wasn't able to be that help this time.

"You alright?" she cracked open her eyes, lifting her head up from his shoulder to look at him. Sniffling, she shook her head. She'd never delivered a baby before, and certainly never held a dead child. Fully formed, hair atop her head, the child was grayish blue. She'd held what should have been her niece for all of ten seconds before Dr. Clarkson took it…her, took _her_ from Sybil's arms and wrapped it up, turning back to Edith. Matthew's good hand patted her arm, he pressed a gentle kiss to her throbbing forehead, sighing. Footsteps in the hall echoed and drew near until Mary rounded the corner, hand on the banister.

"Any news?"

"No." Matthew shook his head. The clock in the hall ticked quietly before pausing and then struck seven.

"Mama and Papa should be home soon. They finally did answer, once they heard about Edith they set out immediately." Sybil wiped her eyes, sitting up a little.

"Good. Edith will need them."

"I think we all do."

"Who called earlier?" Sybil asked. "I heard the phone ring."

"Oh…that was Richard Crewe, my friend."

"What did he want?" Sybil asked

"Nothing much," Mary fiddled with the corner chair-rail in the hall. "He was just going to be in town the end of January…and he wondered if I would be too."

"Did he?" Matthew and Sybil exchanged smiles.

"It wasn't anything really." Mary said quickly "He doesn't know many people very well in this part of the country and merely wanted to know if Mama and Papa objected to visitors."

"Certainly they won't." Matthew said, a teasing smile.

"There isn't anything at all-" Mary began but was cut off by Edith's door opening. Matthew jumped to his feet, pulling Sybil up. Dr. Clarkson stood there a moment, drying his hands on a clean towel. The group stood there, not daring to breathe as they waited for the doctor to look at them, and finally nod.

"You can go in now." He said.

Clutching Matthew's good hand, Sybil went forward, Mary close behind them. There on the bed, supported by several pillows lay Edith, pale and wane. Mrs. Hughes fussed over her, neatening the bedclothes and seeing that she was comfortable. But most important of all, Edith's arms weren't empty. Swaddled in a soft blanket was a squalling babe, hands balled into fists.

"Edith!" Mary gasped, delighted. Slowly her eyes opened.

"I was just resting." She murmured.

"As you should." Mrs. Hughes said, but stepped aside so the family could come closer.

"I can stay awake a little longer." Edith said. "Long enough to let you all meet your nephew." A great, collective sigh was released. A stifled sob from Mary, and Sybil turned to Matthew, burying her head in his shoulder.

"Edith- Edith!" Mary bent and pressed her sister's cheeks, "I'm so happy for you darling."

"My dear Edith," Matthew was next, kissing her forehead, and then bending to touch the child's cheek.

"What will you call him?" Sybil asked, having bestowed her tearful embrace on her sister at last.

"Robert Anthony Strallen." Edith said. "We had wanted to name our first-born son after papa, but I must pay tribute to his own of course."

"Should someone go and tell Sir Richard?" Mary asked

"Let him wait a while more." Matthew said. "Shall I write the note?"

"No I'd rather do it, but I'd be pleased if you could play secretary and write what I want to say for me. I don't think I could hold my head up at this moment, much less a pen." Matthew promised he would do so at her leisure.

"May I hold him?" Sybil asked, and Edith nodded, carefully passing the Strallen heir into her sister's arms. "Oh he's lovely Edith." Matthew came to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder. Before they knew it, they heard a shutter whir and click. Looking up, they saw Mary holding Edith's box camera, smiling.

"Such a charming photograph belongs in your scrapbook." She said. "Edith ought to have one with Anthony now."

"Oh my hair- no I'm an absolute horror." She protested but Sybil settled the baby in her arms again.

"I think everyone would disagree." Mary said and stood nearer her sister, "Matthew open the curtains so I can have a little more light."

"Humph!" Edith said but let Sybil fix her shawl and straighten her hair a little.

"Wait a minute, let me at least comb her hair again." Sybil said and quickly untangled Edith's hair, weaving a hasty braid.

"Oh there isn't any saving it, Sybil, it needs to be washed." Edith said. But as the sun streamed in through the windowpane, it caught the light in Edith's hair, her rosy cheeks glowed and she turned to face the child in her arms.

"Doesn't she look pretty Matthew?" Sybil asked quietly as Mary set up the camera for another picture.

"She does indeed." Blinking back tears, Edith wiped the corners of her eyes.

"I wish Anthony were here." Sybil held her sister's hand, squeezing it tightly. "I've often wished he were but never so keenly before."

"Here." Matthew said, "Let me take a picture of the four of you now, that's quite nice, Sybil beside Edith, and Mary you sit on the edge of the bed near her." They amused themselves for a while more, taking the first family portraits until Mrs. Hughes came up, quite out of breath, that Lord and Lady Grantham had just pulled up to the front door and were on their way in. The camera was put away, Sybil promised to develop the film later. In a few moments, Robert and Cora were in the room, smiling and congratulating Edith. When he heard of his namesake, Lord Grantham quietly blinked back a few tears, beaming with pride, quite honored. Finally, when everyone had kissed and held the fragile Strallen heir and congratulated Edith, for what she was sure to be the fiftieth time that day, they all tiptoed out, assuring her she wouldn't be disturbed for a while, promising to let her rest.

The business of Downton went on as usual that day, and for the next several days. If there was any excitement, Edith didn't hear it, she slept mostly, woken only by Mrs. Hughes with a tray she barely touched, or Dr. Clarkson once or twice who wanted to look in on her.

"She is weak, as many mothers are so soon after giving birth." He said to Lord Grantham. "If it persists however, please inform me. I'll do my best to check in on her, but the business with the war keeps me busy."

"As with all of us." Robert said and shook his hand. "Thank you Dr. Clarkson." As soon as he left the small parlor, and the door shut behind him, Cora slipped in from the library.

"Well?"  
>"Edith is still quite weak, Mrs. Hughes says she does not eat very much."<p>

"This won't do." Cora fretted. Mrs. Hughes was sent for immediately and asked what was sent up to Lady Edith.

"Strong tea, a sandwich usually and biscuits." She replied. "Mrs. Patmore wanted to send her up something more but I didn't think anything very heavy would sit with a new mother."

"Quite right." Cora agreed. "But do try to make her eat something, whatever she likes, see that Mrs. Patmore knows too."

"Yes your ladyship." She looked as if she wanted to say more, but hesitated, her gaze flicked from Lord and Lady.

"Yes Mrs. Hughes?"

"Lady Edith…she wants to nurse the baby herself."

"In her condition?" Cora asked, quite surprised, and Robert turned the color of beets. He cleared his throat, excusing himself, mumbling something about business in the fields. "I'll go up and see her now. What's the matter with the nursemaid?"

"Lady Edith simply wants to do so herself." Mrs. Hughes said. "I told her if she wants to, then she'd do better to eat more than a cucumber sandwich and a few sips of tea." Cora again nodded in agreement.

"Thank you Mrs. Hughes."

~O~

**Fields**

Sybil met Matthew in the fields, having seen him from the window.

"Where have you been?" she asked,

"Seeing Sir Richard off."

"Horrible man." She said, taking his arm. "Is he really gone at last?"

"Yes, packed and parceled off. He took with him a few pieces of furniture he said were owed to him in the Will, I'll tell Edith and she can decide whether or not she wants to fight him on it."

"I don't think she's up to much of any fight. Knowing her, she'll let him keep them and be glad that she's done with him."

"How is the young heir?" Matthew asked

"Stronger every day. I wish I could say the same for Edith." Matthew's features darkened with worry.

"Is she really so bad?" Sybil shrugged,

"She's still weak, food doesn't seem to tempt her, though she eats only for the baby's sake. Almost everything upsets her stomach."

"Hm." They walked through the tall grass for a while in silence.

"When is she to move back to the estate?"

"Whenever she's ready to." He replied, "The Will is quite clear, it seems Sir Richard was hiding an important paragraph pertaining to who would look after the Strallen estate until an heir was born. Edith can't own it, but she can manage it until her son is of age to take over it."

"How wonderful!" Sybil glowed, quite proud of her clever husband. "Will you go back to the Law when the war is over?" she asked.

"I don't rightly know. I suppose I could until I must take my place in Downton Abbey. What do you think?" Sybil looked a little startled.

"Me? You want my opinion?"

"Well I know you must have one of your own." He said teasingly "You do have some say in this marriage." She thought a moment.

"What if you worked only part of the week in Manchester, and the rest here, in Downton, until Papa needed you here more. And we can still keep Saturdays to look in on the farms and the village." He nodded, quite in agreement.

"I had thought something along those lines." He said. "Only I thought we might keep Saturdays to ourselves, we can do as we please, I thought I might take you to Manchester one Saturday, there's some very charming parks." Her only response was a blush blooming on her pale cheeks so Matthew knew she quite approved.

~O~

**January 1917**

The new year came at last. The evening was quietly spent, as Edith was still recuperating. Everyone worried that she was still so weak, and everyone cossetted her more than ever. The Dowager Countess worried that she wasn't eating enough so she sent Anna up with a tray. Cora worried she would eat too much and sent the tray back. Sybil and Mary were almost always ready to sit at her bedside and read or hold the baby, or whatever it was Edith asked them to do, except leave her be so it seemed! Edith was tired of being endlessly fretted over, and decided that a week from New Years Eve, she would move back to the Strallen estate.

"Are you sure?" Cora asked "You're still so weak darling, won't you stay until you get better?"

"I don't see why I can't mend there just as well as I could here." Edith said. "I'll still have the staff."

"You can barely walk." Mary said, as Edith, wobbling, got to her feet, bracing herself against the arms of the chair she occupied. She reached for her sister's arm, but again was shook off.

"I have servants of my own to help me." Edith said. "I can't rely on you for my every beck and call. I'm sure I'll be much better in my own home."

"Mary-" Cora began, and her eldest stepped forward.

"Let me come with you then." Mary said. "I don't mind."

"I couldn't put you out."

"Who's putting me out? I could use a life outside this house."

"Yes, taking care of your nearly bed-ridden sister." Edith snorted.

"Not all day." Mary countered, "You said yourself you have staff. But with me there to keep you company, the house wouldn't seem so empty. Mama and Papa don't really need me here."

"Well I can't decide for you, but my mind is made up." Edith said. "I'm going home." Pleas for her to stay fell on deaf ears, until finally Robert said that it wasn't any use, and that perhaps she would mend faster, if she were in her own home.

"After all, Downton hasn't been for some time now." He reminded Cora and she gave up. Once she'd accepted that, she set about having a grand dinner to send Edith off, overseeing all of the nursery things were packed and carefully shipped to the Strallen estate and so on. It wouldn't take long to move everything the two miles down the road, but Cora wanted to make it as easy as possible for her daughters.

~O~

**Later**

"What is she going there for?" Matthew asked. Walking home from Downton Abbey, Sybil mentioned the move. "I knew about Edith going, but why is Mary?"

"It's only a few miles away, they're still closer to home than we are." She said. "Anyway I think she likes the idea of moving. She can be independent, and still help Edith, and Mama and Papa at Downton if need be."

"What about her friend, Richard?"

"He's still coming. He'll be Mama and Papa's guest, cultivate some friends, and perhaps even investors for his dig."

"You don't think that's his only reason for coming do you?" Matthew asked, smiling.

"Heavens no! Not the way Mary blushes whenever the end of the month is mentioned."

"We shall just have to see that the visit is a productive one." He said rather naughtily.

"Matthew Crawley! After all your talk of loathing arranged marriage and being thrown at ladies-"

"This is different." He insisted. "They both like each other quite a bit. Perhaps they just need a little assistance."

"Don't do anything foolish." Sybil said. And Matthew promised he wouldn't. As they neared Crawley house, Sybil paled, and looked quite faint.

"Alright Sybil?" she looked over.

"Fine," she said, getting her balance again, she stood straight, a hand over her middle. "I just felt sick all of a sudden."

"Walking back and forth in this cold isn't doing you any good." He said. "We'll take the car tomorrow. I should have told your father we would use the car after all." He took her arm in his, holding tightly to her hand. "You're pale as a sheet." He commented. "Come on, sooner we get home, the sooner you can get into a hot bath."

"I'm sure that's all I need." She said quietly, "Just too cold is all." They barely made it home when she shook him off her, tearing up the stairs and throwing herself upon the lavatory, heaving up her lunch.

"Sybil!" he clattered up after her. Taking her hat and gloves, he tossed them at Molesley who had followed to see what the trouble was. "Go and have Mrs. Bird make a pot of tea, something for an ailing stomach." He shut the door after and turned back to Sybil. She couldn't' seem to contain herself, barely able to take a breath before a wave of nausea struck her so violently her entire body shuddered, she vomited again. She stayed this way until nothing else would come up, throat aching. Emitting a soft groan, even that seemed like work. Sybil didn't know what else to do, too afraid to leave the toilet in case such an urge came again. She felt Matthew's hand against her back, and she opened her eyes slowly. His kind face came into view,

"Let's clean you up." He said softly, and he leaned her against the wall, wiping her mouth with a warm wash cloth. She felt the rim of a cool glass against her lips, "To rinse your mouth." He said, she did, spitting the rest into a basin. He managed to unbutton her uniform with his one hand, leaning her exhausted body against him so he could undo her apron and dress. Helping her through to their bedroom, he settled her on the bed, unlaced her boots and set them on the floor. "You're staying home tomorrow." He said, and surprisingly, she made no protest. "Have you felt ill before?" he asked, she shrugged,

"Please don't worry, I'm sure I'm just tired."

"I'll send for the doctor."

"No don't bother him." She protested, "I'm sure I'm just overworked. I haven't had a proper rest in a while. I'm sure if I take tomorrow I'll be much better." He was quiet, cradling her smooth cheek in his good hand.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She smiled up at him. "If you'll stay and take care of me."

"Yes I will." He said, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'll go and see if your tray is ready."

"Matthew?" she held onto his hand, keeping him near for a moment. She wanted to say that she loved him. She wanted very much to tell him that she'd been sick before, that she knew it wasn't exhaustion but quite a different problem that often plagues married women. She wanted very much to tell him to send for the doctor, to confirm her suspicions. But there was still such a great sinking feeling in her belly. A fear that he would be disappointed, or that having seen Edith's squalling baby that he'd changed his mind.

"What is it?" he asked. With great restraint, bottling up what felt like a myriad of confessions and fears, she wrapped an arm around her middle.

"I wondered if you could ask Mrs. Bird to make a good cup of mint tea." He looked at her curiously. The way she'd said his name, he'd almost thought she had something quite secret to say. But if she didn't like to say just then, Matthew wouldn't force her.

"Yes I'll see that she does."

"Thank you." And she let go of his hand.


	13. Chapter 13

_AW YEA. So this resembles NOTHING of the original chapter thirteen. Maybe a teensy bit. But I'm super happy with it anyway. Not much longer to go now, two or three chapters! You guys are AMAZING! - darthsydious_

* * *

><p>When Sybil awoke the next morning, Matthew was standing in the doorway, already dressed. Opening both eyes now, she sat up a little.<p>

"What time is it?"

"Just after ten." He said, coming a little further into the room "Sybil I've sent for Doctor Clarkson." Now she sat up all the way, worry flashed in her eyes,

"Whatever for?"

"You were so ill yesterday." He said, "I'd just like for him to look you over, if it is just the flu, well then we'll take the week and let it run its course."

"What do you mean 'if'?" he smiled at her a little,  
>"I hope you don't think I'm so pig-headed that I don't remember Edith's pregnancy." He said. "She was sick too. Maybe that's not what this is…but I would like us to be certain." He said with a shrug.<p>

"Matthew-" she captured his hand, "I-" she held back then, irrational thoughts flooding her. What if he'd be angrier that she kept it from him? His warm voice penetrated her addled brain.

"What is it?" he asked, and took the edge of the bed. "You're shaking dear, whatever is the matter?" All at once, her eyes filled with tears and she began to cry. "Good heavens, Sybil, what is it?" his good hand held her upper arm, trying to hold her upright so she could speak clearly. "I can't understand you calm down," he said, "What did you say?"

"I've kept something from you." She said through her tears, "And I'm afraid you'll be upset with me."

"What on Earth do you mean?" he almost laughed then, "Why should I be angry at you?"

"Because I'm not sick from work." She burst out, "I'm sick because you're right, I am to have a baby." and she collapsed against him, a great weeping mess. For a moment, Matthew didn't know what to do or say.

"May I ask you something?" his voice was still and quiet. She wiped her eyes, nodding. He paused, collecting himself, "Are you…upset because you're having the baby?" She looked confused, frowning through her tears.

"What? No! Why should I be?" Befuddled, he sat back a little,

"Well, you're the one who's crying. I thought- well seeing you like this and not wanting me to send for the Doctor- I don't know-"

"Oh no! No Matthew, that isn't it!" she gasped. "No I thought oh I don't know what I was thinking." She said helplessly. "I thought maybe after all this time you had changed your mind. It was silly of me."

"Yes it was." He said, and kissed her forehead. "But I'm told pregnant women can be very silly indeed." He wiped her eyes.

"I cannot promise that it was the most foolish thing I'll ever do." She said, trying to smile.

"I shouldn't disagree." He said, she gave him a look, "Now, I'm only teasing."

"I suppose we ought to tell everyone." Sybil said.

"Well, not right away," he said, and leaned in- only to be interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Sir," it was Mosley "Doctor Clarkson is here now. Shall I send him up?" Matthew gave a great sigh as Sybil tried not to laugh. Resting his forehead against her's a moment, he pulled himself upright.

"Yes of course, thank you Mosley."

An hour later, Doctor Clarkson was shutting his bag,

"Everything is as you suspected, Lady Sybil, and I'm glad to be the first to offer my congratulations to you both." He smiled, "There isn't anything for you to worry for, not for the time being. Just…enjoy it, there are few things that bring couples joy as expecting a baby." He smiled then, for Matthew only had eyes for his wife. "I'll show myself out now." He said and Matthew stood then, shaking the doctor's hand. As soon as the door shut behind him, he sat beside Sybil, his good hand over her belly, reverence shining on his face as he admired her.

"A baby at last," he said, "Now if only these terrible nightmares would go away."

"Do you still have bad dreams?" she asked. He shrugged, looking down at her belly again.

"Sometimes," he put on a brave face, "Nothing for you to worry over. Let's not think about it now. Let's think about if it's a boy or girl." He rested his head against her abdomen, sighing lightly.

"You're tired." She said, combing her fingers through his hair.

"I am at that." He murmured. "Come on, you think of boy's names, and I'll think of girl's names." She gave a small sigh, deciding not to push the subject. There would be a time for that soon enough. "I like the name Alice." He murmured.

"I like Edgar."

"Oh, that's far too stern for a child of ours." Matthew said, "Now you must think of something biblical."

"Must I?" she murmured. "I wasn't aware." She paused. "Noah. I've always liked the name. I always liked that Mama called me something different."

"Hmm." She could tell he was smiling.

"What else for girl's names?"

"You never said what you thought of Alice."

"I like it."

"I suggest Violet too, that might make your Granny positively preen." Sybil laughed then, making his head bob up and down.

"Yes it would. I think it'd be nice, at least as a middle name."

"What about your Mama though?"

They spoke quietly, murmured names and opinions until Sybil realized Matthew had fallen asleep. Smiling to herself, she continued brushing her fingers through his hair, deciding once and for all she was a foolish woman in love. It was ridiculous to ever think Matthew would be upset with the thought of their having a baby. Laughing to herself, she shut her eyes with a sigh.

~O~

"How marvelous for you both!" Mary crowed, "There's no sense blushing, Matthew, I think any man worth his salt has the right to be proud at such a time."

"Mary," Robert began to caution

"What's so shocking about it?" Mary asked, "You're pleased and you know it."

"Perhaps I am." Robert said, making no attempt to hide his smile.

"Another baby already." Cora sighed happily. "Downton will be busy as ever."

"It's a good distraction from the war." Edith said. "Babies cheer everyone up, even if they keep all of us up."

"Speaking of war, have you got word from your mother yet?"

"I have." Matthew said. "We managed to get her on the telephone. She's coming home, for the birth. I'm hoping we can convince her to stay at Crawley House, for good."

"What about you two?" Cora asked,

"Well…I don't see why we can't go on there." Matthew said, looking at Sybil.

"I had a thought," Robert said, "You'll be inheriting one day anyway, you ought to be here. Now that Cousin Isobel is coming home, why don't you let her have her house back, and you come home to Downton?" Sybil took Matthew's hand, face aglow.

"Oh Papa, really?"

"Yes of course, I had intended for you both to come back eventually. I cannot have my heir living in the village."

"Why not? Granny lives in the village." Edith said, and Violet shushed her

"Oh tush, Edith, it's entirely different." She smiled at Sybil and Matthew "Of course you must move back to Downton, so the baby may be born here. All of the Crawley children were born here."

"Not all of them, surely." Mary said, and Matthew laughed at this.

"I certainly wasn't, but I suppose I cannot have any objections can I?"

"Certainly not." Robert agreed teasingly, he caught Cora's eye, and she nodded smiling.

"We'll leave you to your brandies then." And she and the ladies all rose, heading for the parlor.

"Anna will be in directly with coffee your ladyship."

"Thank you Carson." Cora nodded. Robert sat again as Carson opened the cigar box.

"I hope you don't think we're being pushy, wanting you to come back to Downton." He said, and Matthew shook his head as he lit a cigar, blowing a puff of smoke up.

"No I think Sybil would like it very much, one can't argue with a woman, especially when she is pregnant." Robert chuckled,

"No indeed." He looked at the shut door, "I think it would be good for Cora as well. She was terribly upset that Edith is leaving so soon after the baby was born."

"Is there any news about her condition at all? Nothing from that doctor from London?"

"No," Robert tapped the ash off the end of his cigar. Edith was still not well, still weak and at Doctor Clarkson's insistence, using a wheel chair. He had sent for a colleague in London to come and examine Lady Edith. As of yet they had heard nothing as to why she was so weak, nor if she would get better.

"Still, Mary is going with her, and that is something."

"I'd prefer they all just stay here." Robert said. "If there was a way to keep them here, I would." he uncorked the brandy bottle, pouring himself a glass, then offered it to Matthew. "I suppose there isn't anything we can do for now." He took a sip,

"What about this other Richard fellow, Crewe? Is Mary looking forward to his visit?"

"She's not pretending to loathe him." Robert said. "I've made my own inquiries, he's a decent fellow, he was on a few expeditions in Egypt, very promising fellow. 'Dedicated to his work' is what is most often said about him."

"Do you think Mary doesn't know it?" Matthew asked.

"I should hope so." Robert said, "I do hope whatever attachment she has to him-"

"Whatever attachment she has to him, there's little any of us can do about it." Matthew said, and Robert started, quite shocked, "I mean there is only so much we can do. If he is as Mary says, good and honorable, then what have we to worry for?"

"Yes but what else about him do we know of, except that?"

"If Mary says so, then I believe her." Matthew answered, "I don't think she'd take to anyone foolish or lowbrow."

"Yes but…he's not-"

"What? Titled? Neither am I, if you think about it. Not yet anyway." Matthew said. "So what if he isn't?" Robert sighed.  
>"You don't understand, Cora and I had plans for Mary, she's the first born, she ought to have someone sturdy, someone settled in England. The same as Edith had, and Sybil has."<p>

"He is English, and for heaven's sake, isn't it enough that he loves her?"

"No it certainly is not." Robert snapped, he settled back in his chair with a sigh. "I want to know that she'll be happy. Archaeologists must always be in their field. They only come back to get funding for their digs. I can't see Mary enjoying any of it really, day in and day out in Egypt, under the hot sun, it isn't anything she would like."

"What if it is?" Matthew asked, "Perhaps she wouldn't mind it at all, she did go to Italy after all."

"I think that there are a few more attractions to Italy, compared to Egypt." Robert said sardonically.

**Library**

"You sent for me, Lady Edith?" she looked up from the book on her lap,

"Yes, I did, I'm sorry to disturb your evening, but I wanted to speak to you about something."

"Is anything wrong?"

"No! No far from it, please do sit down. You needn't stand on my account, besides you're not a footman anymore." After a moment's hesitation he tugged at his trouser legs and took a seat opposite her chair. "As you may have heard, I'm leaving Downton, to look after my own household, and well-" she fidgeted, pinching the string of beads around her neck. "Oh, dear this is all rather awkward." She said mournfully. "I'm afraid you'll think me rude."

"I wouldn't." he said with a small smile. "Go on then."

"Well…it's just this: after the war is over, I expect you'll come back to Downton, as a footman?" he nodded with a shrug.

"Suppose so."

"Well I've a proposition; you see Carson might just put you back as an under-footman, because there have been several new boys in the house since you joined the army. Well I think I can offer you a better position, as my butler. You were training for so long under ours, and I think you would do a fine job. You've been managing all the affairs with my mother here with the army staff-"

"You-" he interrupted "want me to be your butler, over at Cherry Hall?" she nodded then,

"I do, very much." She fiddled with her necklace. "I know how you don't get on with everyone downstairs here, and I think a fresh start would do you good." She shrugged her thin shoulders. "There is another reason I want you to come, it's that…well it's prideful of me I suppose, but the fact is I'm still so weak, and despite what Mama thinks, I doubt very much I'll get better. I'm afraid they'll want to put a nurse in the house with me. I'm not so dense that I think I can manage by myself, but I would be grateful for whatever help you could give, helping me upstairs, or in and out of my chair, things like that."

"Yes of course." He nodded, that all seemed obvious to him

"It must all be so precise you see, in almost everything we do, whether taking a glass from a tray or coming up into a car. I already know you so well, and I hope you know me, I don't think it would be hard for us." Thomas did smile a little then, nodding "I think that we can manage on our own, without doctors or nurses on staff." Thomas nodded,

"I understand." He said. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." And she suddenly grasped his hand, "I'm so grateful to you Thomas, I knew I could ask you and you would understand."

"There you are Edith!" Mary was in the doorway, "Mama was looking for you." She glanced at her holding Thomas' hand, who quickly dropped it and stood. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just asking Thomas if after the war he'd like to come join the staff at Cherry Hall."

"I see," Mary nodded with a polite smile. "What do you say Thomas? Will you be coming along?"

"I will Lady Mary, and very glad to at that."

"No doubt." She said with a quirked eyebrow. "If it isn't too much trouble then, will you please help Lady Edith back into the drawing room?"

"Yes Lady Mary." She turned then, as Edith and Thomas exchanged smiles, laughing inwardly.

"You're not going already are you?" Edith asked as Thomas pushed her through to the foyer. Sybil and Matthew stood getting their coats on.

"I'm sorry we can't stay." Sybil said going to her, "I'm worn out, and Matthew is insisting. I'd much rather stay and play games with everyone-"

"You need your rest." Matthew said,

"He's right." Edith agreed,

"I was hoping you'd take my side, but it seems everyone has me wrapped in feathers tonight."

"And for the next seven months." Matthew added with a smile, "Goodnight Edith," he kissed her cheek and Sybil on his arm took his leave. They watched them go through the front doors out to the waiting car. Carson shut the door behind him and headed back to the drawing room.

"I like Mr. Crawley." Thomas said. "He's alright."

"Were you with him in the trenches?"

"For a time, before I got shot." he watched through the window as the car went rattling down the drive into the night. "He pulled me down once, when we were going over, nearly got my head shot off if it weren't for him."

"What bonds these wars make." Edith said quietly, she reached up, patting his injured hand. "Take me through please Thomas."

~O~

**The Well-Expected Guest**

"When does Mr. Crewe arrive?" Sybil asked. Now that she was pregnant, Dr. Clarkson insisted she only work half days, so she often brought clothes to change into later.

"He's coming in on the two 'o' clock." Mary said, adjusting her necklace. "What do you think of this?" Sybil looked up from the mirror where she watched Anna button up her dress.

"Beautiful, is it new?"

"No, ancient actually." Mary touched the jade beads. "I sent it to the jewelers to be re-strung. Crewe had all sorts of things with him from his travels, this was one of them, he gave it to me when I left Italy."

"It's lovely." Sybil replied, "I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you wearing it."

"I hope so." There was a knock on the door,

"Come in," Sybil called, and Matthew poked his head in.

"The car is back from the train station, it looks like he's here." If Mary was nervous, she didn't look it.

"He must've taken an earlier train." She replied, "Thank you Matthew." She turned to Sybil. "Go ahead down; I'll be along in a minute."

"We can wait if you like." Matthew said, and Mary smiled her thanks.

"I'll be along." Waiting until the door shut, she then turned to the mirror, adjusting the necklace once more. "Is he at the door yet?" Anna went to the window, peering out,

"Not yet, there's a great big crate on the back of the car though."

"That's interesting." Mary said. "He didn't say he was traveling with anything."

"What could it be?" Anna wondered.

"No use wondering." She turned to the maid suddenly. "Anna, do I look alright?" the young woman smiled,

"You look lovely. If he doesn't think so he's a fool."

"Then I'd better go down then, and see if he's the fool everyone else thinks he is." Mary replied.

"Nobody thinks that." Anna said, picking up Sybil's discarded uniform.

"Papa does."

"He's just concerned." She shook out the dress, finding a hanger for it. "John tells me Lord Grantham is more concerned he's just here for funding for his next dig."

"Well, if that's the worst he could come up with then I suppose I should be grateful." Mary said dejectedly.

"Now, now, a father has a right to be worried, if you like Mr. Crewe, what do you have to worry for? Lady Grantham will be able to see, and if she can't bring his Lordship around, then no one can."

"I hope you're right." Mary said with a sigh, she stood. Suddenly Matthew was at the door again.

"Are you coming or not?" he puffed, out of breath from jogging up the stairs two at a time. "Or are you going to leave your future fiancé to the wolf?"

"Is Papa down already?"

"No, worse, your grandmother."

"Good heavens!" Mary jumped to her feet, hurrying out the door. Matthew and Anna glanced at each other,

"Oh leave that Anna, you must want a look at him too. Can't you sort this later?"

"I could indeed." She said and he held the door for her. "So long as you don't tell Mrs. Hughes."

"Me? A squealer? My dear Mrs. Bates-"

"Matthew!" now it was Sybil at the hall. "Come quickly, come and see what Mr. Crewe has brought Papa!" he looked at Anna, and Anna looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"He's off to a jolly good start." Matthew said, Anna close behind.

"For good or ill I wonder?" Sybil asked.

"I don't know, but it makes for an exciting visit." He retorted and the three giggled as they hurried down the stairs.


	14. Chapter 14

_ . CRAP. I am so sorry this took so long to write, you guys, if you're still out there. Thank you so much for being patient, you guys are AMAZING._

_In case you forgot, which is probably true since I havent' submitted anything since November/December (shame-faced) here's a little catch-up: Mary's suitor Richard Crewe, the archaeologist, is visiting Downton Abbey. Edith, still weak from giving birth, makes plans with Thomas (her not so secret BFF) to hire him as her butler after the war. Matthew/Sybil moments to top off the chapter. I LOVE YOU ALL. - darthsydious_

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><p>"What are they?" Cora asked, hands clasped before her as Robert carefully examined the gift from Mr. Crewe.<p>

"They're shabti," Robert said. "They're funerary figurines, from the Ptolemaic period if I'm not mistaken," he marveled.

"What about the marble box?"

"A canopic chest," this time Mr. Crewe answered her. "It even contains the ancient jars, still sealed." Robert Crawley was nothing less than gleeful. Like a child at Christmas, though with a bit more self-control, he gently picked up one of the jars, turning it over and showing Cora the markings in the flaking paint. He was something of a collector of Egyptian artifacts, he devoted a monthly sum to the British Museum, helping expand and preserve the collection in London. He owned a few pieces, though not as many as he would have liked.

"I saw something like it when I traveled through Egypt, years ago," Robert said. Mary was smiling at Mr. Crewe, pleased he had thought to bring such a gift. She saw Sybil and Matthew on the stairs. "There you are, come and meet my good friend, Richard Crewe," Matthew held out his hand to the gentleman.

"You must be Matthew," Richard said happily. "Mary has told me so much about you."

"All good I hope," he laughed.

"Nothing but," Richard said. "And Lady Sybil, Lady Mary's favorite sister."

"One of her favorites," Sybil amended. "It is good to meet you at last; we've so looked forward to meeting you. What have you brought for Papa?" she turned to look at what so engrossed her father.

"What do you think of him?" Mary asked as Richard explained what the jars contained. Matthew glanced over at the group gathering around the ancient artifacts.

"I can hardly form a proper opinion of anyone in only two minutes," he said. "But he seems a decent fellow."

"Well I hope Papa can at least say that," she sighed.

"Don't worry," Matthew smiled at her. "Your Richard is off to a good start with the family. Clever of him to bring such a gift to your father, and one he would so appreciate. Terribly clever." Mary raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think I told him to?"

"No, of course not," he laughed quietly. "But I shouldn't doubt _someone_ did." Mary frowned then.

"Who?"

It was then that Thomas wheeled Edith in, past Mary and Matthew and over to the others. Already Edith extended her hand to Mr. Crewe, who grasped it, smiling at her.

"You must be Lady Edith, how good to see you at last!"

"And you as well," she said. Mary looked at Matthew, a disbelieving smile forming.

"You've met before?" Matthew asked.

"We've only spoken on the telephone," Mr. Crewe said. "I called the house several weeks ago, Lady Mary was not in, but Lady Edith was good enough to relay a message from her to me."

"That was good of you Edith," Mary said at last. "Thank you."

"Lady Grantham, tea is served," Mr. Carson stood in the doorway, solemn amongst the cheerful faces.

"Thank you Carson, everyone, do come through," Cora said, Mr. Crewe took her arm, following Lord Grantham and the Dowager Countess. Close behind were Sybil and Matthew.

"Your shawl fell, Edith," Mary said quickly, seeing them pause when she didn't go with them. "I'll just fix it and bring you through." Once they were gone, she bent, tucking the blanket around Edith's lap again.

"What did you say to him?" she asked softly. Edith shrugged.

"Nothing very important, just that Papa shared in his interest of Egyptology."

"And that's all?"

"No," Edith paused. "I may have let slip that he was less than confident about this visit."

"Edith!"

"Mr. Crewe asked me if there was a way I knew of to make the visit go more smoothly, and I said Papa was fond of the Ptolemaic period." She looked up at her sister, chewing her bottom lip. "Are you angry with me?"

"Good heavens, no!" Mary gasped, then she began to laugh. "Perhaps it is good that you aren't staying with Granny anymore, what a pair you two would make!" Edith smiled to herself then.

~O~

After tea Matthew suggested Mary show Mr. Crewe the grounds.

"Downton is known for its extensive gardens," there was a touch of boasting in his tone. "It would be a pity to waste such a fine day indoors. A tour inside can be done any of these cold days." Mr. Crewe agreed, but only if Mary wouldn't mind. Of course she didn't, and as they followed the men out, Mary took Sybil's hand.

"You and Matthew, you'll come along won't you?"

"If you like us to," Sybil said.

"Isn't it funny?" Mary asked. "I'm so very nervous and silly about Richard all of a sudden." Sybil only smiled, though her gaze was not on her sister, but her husband.

"No, I don't think so," she turned back to Mary, who had seen. Embarrassed then, Sybil ducked her head.

"Well I suppose I won't tease you," Mary said soberly. Pinching her sister's arm, Sybil laughed, tugging her along out of the parlor.

"Lady Edith has not been ill, I hope?" Mr. Crewe was asking they stepped out into the cool January air. It was warm for the time of year, the sun bright and high in the sky. Patches of snow melted onto the walkway, crunching under their boots.

"She recently had a child," Mary said. "She hasn't quite recovered yet." Richard raised an eyebrow at this, concerned.

"I am sorry then. When we spoke on the phone she seemed perfectly well." Mary frowned, not understanding. "I mean when most ladies are ill they tend to stay abed, ringing for smelling salts and faintly questioning the temperature of the room."

"Do they?" Mary asked tartly. "Well I am glad you're such an expert on ladies and their illnesses."

"Or at least my mother's," he replied and she laughed then. His smile faded quickly though. "But Lady Edith is not very much like any lady, nor Lady Sybil," he turned to Mary. "And certainly not you."

"Surely," she replied quietly. "You're the only one who knows my secrets,"

"No it isn't that," he shook his head. "None of you are really like all the ladies in society, I quite admire that. You're all individuals, pleased with your own thoughts and ideas and-"

"Good heavens, in a moment you'll be saying we're all modern!" Mary said with a laugh. "Don't let Papa hear you say that,"

"Well you are," Richard said. "And why shouldn't I say it?"

"Papa is very old-fashioned, much as he would deny it," Mary replied. "The war has changed things," their pace slowed, Matthew and Sybil took note and slowed down as well, keeping just out of ear-shot. "The lower and upper classes are closer now, Papa believes afterwards things will go back to the way things were but I don't believe they will," she looked up at Richard. "How could they? How could the world be turned upside-down and afterwards turned back over and have everything fall exactly into place again?" Richard's expression softened, and Mary could only liken it to when her father looked at her mother.

"You are very wise, and if your brother-in law and sister were not so close, I may kiss you." Mary couldn't speak for a moment, she glanced back, then at Richard.

"If they weren't, then I might let you." He squeezed her hand in response, they waited for Matthew and Sybil to catch up before continuing on.

~O~

**Inside**

"He's a decent chap," Robert said. Edith and Lady Grantham exchanged smiles over their teacups. "Well adjusted as well, to England. Some of these archeologists are so far removed from decent society they can't even dress themselves properly."

"Robert, you've never been one to judge someone by their clothes and you know it," Cora said. "Stop looking for faults."

"I'm not, for the time being," he replied. Turning away from the window, he seated himself at his desk. "What do you think of him, Edith?"

"I like him," she said.

"How could anyone 'like' a person they've only just met?" the Dowager Countess asked. "One afternoon tea does not equal a friend."

"No, but it means an acquaintance," Edith said. "And Mary knows him very well, so I think it's alright to say so."

Carson appeared in the doorway, clearing his throat quietly.

"Yes, Carson?" Lady Grantham asked,

"Nanny says that Master Anthony is awake." Edith's pale face beamed. Setting down her teacup, she began to unlock the brakes of her chair.

"Thank you Carson," she said. Taking the wheels of her chair she began to push herself away from the sofa. Carson nearly leapt forward, grasping the handles of the chair.

"I'll see you upstairs Lady Edith," he said, glancing between Lady and Lord Grantham.

"Don't be silly, I can manage," Edith laughed.

"But the stairs-" he began,

"I could do it, Mr. Carson." They all looked to see Thomas standing at the doorway. "Begging your pardon," he murmured, realizing he'd interrupted. Lieutenant or not, it was still rude. If he wanted the position of butler in Lady Edith's house, he'd better be on his best behaviour. "I was just bringing the new schedules in for Lady Grantham's approval," he continued. "I couldn't help overhearing."

"Yes of course," Lady Grantham said. "Thank you Thomas."

Carson released the chair, stepping aside so that Lieutenant Barrows could tuck Lady Edith's shawl back into place.

"Will we see you at dinner?" Lady Grantham asked, and Edith promised she would be.

Once out of the room, she leaned her head against her hand, sighing tiredly.

"Not a moment too soon," she murmured. "It can't be spring soon enough for me."

"February is a short month," Thomas said. Carefully he backed up to the stairs, lifted her out of the chair and carried her up to the family wing where a second chair waited. He knew she disliked winter, now especially because she only went out on Sundays to mass. Her main source of joy was her son. Named Robert-Anthony, first for her father, and then for her husband, although everyone referred to the Strallen heir as Anthony. Thomas thought of the baby as he pushed Edith through the corridors to the nursery. Master Anthony, unlike his mother, grew stronger every day. Born some weeks too soon, everyone worried he would not live. Lord Grantham boasted through his worries that the boy was a Crawley and would persevere. Thomas didn't know who's family blood was stronger, but live the boy did. Now two months old and growing fast, Master Anthony was as healthy as anybody and rarely cried when held. Thomas had held him (at Edith's insistence), and the boy had only looked up at him with some regard, most likely because Thomas' face was unfamiliar to him, though perhaps his voice was not.

~O~

In the nursery, the nanny, actually one of the under-maids who had raised at least five of her seven siblings, cradled Master Anthony.

"Was he any trouble?" Lady Edith asked,

"No milady, he's been sleeping this past hour and just woke. Not cried yet except when he heard the chair in the hallway, and only then just a little."

"Thank you Nanny,"

"I'll go and fetch his bottle," she said and scooted around Thomas. Edith smiled, seeing the look of admiration from the young woman as she passed Thomas.

"Another fan of yours?" she asked teasingly as she shifted the baby in her arms so he lay more comfortably. Thomas only grunted in response. "Don't let me keep you," she said quickly. "I know you've things to attend to downstairs."

"I can spare a minute," he said with a shrug.

"Well if you can, sit for a moment. You're not a footman anymore, and not my butler yet," she said. Indulging her, he took the hassock by the rocking chair. "I did speak to father, by the way," she said. "About your position here, he agrees I'll need a butler, and quite likes the idea of your coming to serve at Cherry Hall. You've been with the family so long you see. And that business with Isis, finding her when she ran away in December," Edith shrugged quickly, looking down at the baby. "Anyway it's nearly settled, we're really only waiting for you to decide."

"Me?" he asked, shocked. "I told you before though-"

"Yes I know, but you're not staff right now, Thomas," she looked at him, pale and serious. "You don't have to go into service again after the war. Papa says it can't last much longer now, another year at the most, and it is highly unlikely they'll send you to the front. You could go wherever you wanted afterwards." Anthony began to squall in her arms so she rocked back and forth, soothing his head before she continued. "You've learned a good deal under Doctor Clarkson, and being in the army. You don't have to be a servant the rest of your life."

This was something Thomas had considered. But once Edith asked him about a new position, he had put it out of his mind. Here now, she was offering him again a choice: to go to Cherry Hall and be a servant, or go out into the world and start new, to be anyone and anything he wanted. He looked back at Lady Edith, weak and pale, slender hands combing her child's hair. Master Anthony opened and closed his fingers, still discovering the use of his hands. On impulse, Thomas reached forward, the boy grasped his finger, squeezing tightly. Lady Edith wasn't strong, not by a long-shot. The act of going downstairs to breakfast, luncheon, tea and dinner exhausted her. She would have been a terrific actress, for she could laugh and converse as well as anyone else in the house, but behind closed doors only Anna and Thomas knew how tired she was. Thomas worried if he left, she might not ever recover. That was a thought he did not like at all.

"Well," he said finally. "I reckon I'll stay around." Edith grasped his hand suddenly, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Tired eyes seemed to glow at him,

"_Thank you_," she murmured. "Thank you."

~O~

**That Night**

Mathew readied for bed, listening as Sybil spoke to him through the opened door of the washroom adjoining their room.

"I like the idea," she said. "Thomas going to Cherry Hall. It's someone the family knows, and he's had years of experience at Downton."

"Yes but is it something he wants?" Matthew called back. He didn't often speak of Thomas, perhaps because he was reminded of the trenches. He didn't want to think of that.

"I'm sure Edith would ask him. She and Thomas are such good friends."

"Hm, yes he did mention as much to me."

"Why?" Sybil poked her head through the doorway. "Do you think he meant there was something more between them?"

"No, no. Not at all," Matthew shrugged. He thought of that evening that Edith went into labor. Thomas jumped on a motorcycle, not even knowing how to drive it, to go and fetch Doctor Clarkson. Matthew would've done the same for any of his family too, he supposed.

"_Motorcycles," _thought Matthew. Noisy, irritating machines. He liked motorcars. Motorcars weren't used on the front. The engines weren't exposed so when they did pop and rattle, it was muffled. It didn't sound like a shell. Before he could stop himself, he thought of the noise a shell makes. When it hits the ground, earth is flung in every direction, a blossom of red and grey smoke shoot up from it igniting._ Bodies everywhere._

"- I was thinking too he's changed since he came back-" Sybil was still talking. About who? Oh, Thomas. Yes.

"Yes, he has," Matthew answered. "Most do."

"It's more than that. I suppose we all knew Edith and Thomas were close. Not like Branson and I- I don't mean romantically-" she dropped something, it hit the tiled bathroom floor with a 'crack' and Matthew found himself jumping. "It was only the soap dish," she called "It's cracked- I'm sorry-" her voice seemed to fade into the distance as Matthew's thoughts turned back to the noise, echoing in his head. It resonated, deeper and deeper until it seemed to match the smashing of glass windows. _Soldiers kicking in doors to buildings, boots crunching over broken plaster and ransacked houses. He remembered opening a cupboard door to find a withered body. An old man had hidden himself from the soldiers. Perhaps the shells exploding nearby had caused his heart to fail. Matthew didn't know. The nameless body was buried with the rest of the dead they found. So many mass graves. So many men and women, children. Dear God, the babies and little ones- life torn from them before they even had a chance to live._

"Matthew-" like a light in the dark, Sybil's warm voice pierced his thoughts. Through blurry eyes he looked up. He found himself sitting on the floor of the wardrobe, hugging his knees. Sybil knelt down before him, closing her robe. Before she could speak, he moved her arms out of the way, leaning forward. She sat back on the floor as he pressed his ear to her belly. Slowly, she ran her fingers through is hair, nails grazing softly against his scalp, soothing him. "What is it?" she asked softly. He couldn't answer her, he wanted to hear the baby. He was desperate to know it was alive and well.

"He's alright? You're sure the baby is alright?"

"Of course he is," she said, looking down at his head. "Why shouldn't he be?"

"I wish I could hear him…her…do you think it will be a girl?" his thoughts strayed briefly to the body of a little girl he had set in a grave. He blinked quickly, tears came anyway and shaking, he began to sob.

"Matthew, Matthew," Sybil said mournfully, "My love, what is it?"

"Tell me!" he gasped through his tears. "Tell me what life will it have? Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know-"

"Pretend you did!" he begged, and looked at her, "Tell me please,"

"It's a boy…and a girl," she began uncertainly, thinking of Edith's stillborn that would have been Anthony's sister.

"Twins?" he murmured. He could not think of burying any twins while in the army. He seemed to relax a little.

"Yes," she continued, she soothed his forehead, pushing stray locks from his eyes. "She'll be named after Mama or Granny I think, and he'll have your father's name,"

"He will?"

"Yes, I like your father's name," she said. "And they'll go to school, probably for a lawyer, even if he's to inherit, it would be nice for him to know something of the world before he must settle at Downton with his own family.

Grandchildren! Good heavens that was a thought. But not as unlikely as it was before they learned Sybil was pregnant. It was a far off promise, giving him something to look forward to. He listened as Sybil quietly spoke of what their children would do, would become. It soothed him, the thought of life coming forth, moving on. Perhaps if he believed hard enough that what she said would come true, he could move on too.


	15. Chapter 15

_Well my darlings, here it is at last, chapter fifteen! I am so very pleased to say that this story is finished! I may write an epilogue (omg my brain right now though, it's 3:48 AM) just to tie up whatever loose ends there may be. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for your patience, for all your amazing reviews and wonderful messages! So long and thanks for all the fish! - darthsydious_

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><p><strong>Some Months Later…<strong>

"Matthew had one of his fits again," Sybil pushed her hands into her pockets, keeping up with her father as they turned down the worn path through one of the smaller fields. "Has he mentioned them to you?"

"He did tell me something, yes," he replied. With his walking stick he rolled a rock out of the way, skipping it along the path for a while before it fell away to the side, lost in the melting snow.

"Papa, please don't tell me we don't talk of these things," Sybil begged tiredly. She stopped now so he did too. "I wish you would tell me what I can do for him," Robert looked at the ground, then at Sybil.

"The only thing you can do is be there for him," he said finally. "Be his support and confidant,"

"I _am_ that," Sybil was hoping he might tell her something more profound that she hadn't thought of. "What did Mama do to help you?" Robert poked at the earth, turning over a pebble with his stick.

"Talk to me," he smiled then. "Or rather made me talk to her. She always knew when I had bad dreams." Sybil nodded.

"Matthew wakes in a cold sweat, sometimes he is ill."

"He won't want to talk of course, I never did. Your mama was persistent though, and I am grateful for it."

"He tells me only a little, but if I ask him he refuses."

"Make him tell you," he replied firmly. "He can't see that it helps, and if I did not understand his feelings on the matter I would not say to."

"He says that it is things I shouldn't know about," Sybil didn't like that Matthew thought she, as a woman, shouldn't know things he, as a man, did.

"He is right," Robert said, she made to protest but he interrupted her. "There are some things nobody should know, nobody should know the best way to kill a man, nobody should see comrades shot," he was quiet. "You won't understand his grief, nor quite why he is depressed at times or why noises startle him," he looked out back over the estate, Downton far in the distance. "Nobody understood why I shook for so long after I came home."

"What made you stop?" now Robert looked at her, warmth in his eyes again.

"Your Mama, and the news that she was pregnant," he looked steadily at her. "News that a new life would soon be a part of mine did remind me that life goes on, and the body has a way of healing old wounds. The scars will always be there, sometimes they hurt, but only if we think too long on them."

Sybil cradled her belly, now six months along, she was slower in going but still kept reasonably active.

"If you say it's a good idea then I'll do my best."

"I know you will," he paused a moment, studying her. "You're tired today," he observed.

"I am a little," she admitted.

"You've been working too hard, I'll speak to Doctor Clarkson tomorrow when I see him,"

"No!" Sybil protested. "No please don't, it isn't his fault. I ought to be working shorter days anyway, I only haven't because Matthew worries for me when I come home early, I don't like him to."

"You should let him," Robert said. "It's a good distraction and lets him know he's still needed. That's the most important thing Sybil, remind him that you need him," he said, "More than anyone else, a man wants his wife to want him and need him when he feels the world doesn't."

They paused on the hill, from here they could see both Downton on one side in the distance, and on the other side stood Cherry Hall.

"Have you seen Edith lately?" Sybil asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, just the other day," he nodded. "Why?"

"No reason," she shrugged. "Doctor Clarkson said he'd visited her the other day, he didn't seem grim exactly."

"Probably just as frustrated with her condition as the rest of us," Robert said with a sigh. "Is it natural for a person to be so weak so suddenly?" he asked.

"Doctor Clarkson can only attribute it to her losing her husband, and then the strain of giving birth," Sybil replied. Her arms over and under her belly, she was quiet then, thinking. "I worry sometimes that I'll end up like Edith, too weak to even hold a spoon at times, let alone care for a baby."

"Edith is a special case," Robert soothed. "None of us could have ever thought that she would have such a collapse. Besides," he went on confidently "She's mending, slowly but surely. She'll be walking before the year is out," he pulled out his pocket watch, studying it a moment. "We'd best be heading back, Matthew wanted to look over the books with me after tea."

~O~

**Cherry Hall**

As it was almost June, Cherry Hall was certainly living up to it's name. Some 80 trees surrounded the big house and lined the path to the gardens, all in full bloom. These were only a sampling of the orchards that the estate boasted. Among the heady blossoms sat four figures. Edith sat on a blanket, Anthony in her arms. Thomas was nearby to fetch whatever she needed. Some distance from them sat Mary and Richard, within sight but somewhat out of earshot for privacy.

"It is strange to see you properly dressed," Mary said quietly. Richard Crewe quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked from behind his glass of wine. She threw a napkin at him. "You know what I mean; usually you're up to your elbows in dirt, crawling along on your belly looking for pottery shards." Richard had decided to stay when he heard Edith and Mary would be moving. "Does it feel strange, being away from digging, being back in society?" she asked. He set his glass down, reclining back on his side, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I suppose I miss the digging, I'll always miss that, and I'm not exactly in society-" she made a face "I mean the way I would be if I were in London, formal dinners every night, dirty looks from all the high-born, all expecting me to beg for money-"

"We're high-born," Mary interjected.

"Yes, but you're not like everyone else. People call your father eccentric, I think he simply has heart." He looked up at her then. "You don't mind my saying so, I hope."

"Not at all," she said, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled. "It's nice to hear someone outside the family say it, and mean it."

"I do," he said and sat up a little. "Though I do wish you wouldn't guard your heart so carefully from me," she bowed her head, fiddling with the flowers on her lap.

"I'm sorry if I seem withdrawn here, it was easier to be freer with my feelings in Italy. I suppose because my family wasn't watching and hovering," she shrugged, looking back to where Edith sat cradling her baby. "I'm ashamed of the reasons why I left, they seem so petty and selfish now."

"Yes," Richard nodded. "But you've learned from it, and hopefully know what you've gained, your family's love," a pause, "and mine as well." He stood up, holding his hand out to her.

"Where are we going?"

"Such a fine day and you want to sit around?"

"We're outside," Mary said.

"Tush, you know I must always go for a walk after eating. I am becoming far too idle," he helped her stand. He turned back "Lady Edith, we're going for a walk, we won't be too long!" he called. They heard her response and Richard smiled easily at Mary. "Shall we?"

"Oh I suppose," she said, though truthfully she was glad for the opportunity to be out of sight of watchful eyes. Though of all her family, Edith was the most lenient of chaperons. Taking Richard's arm they started down the grassy hill, toward the orchards.

"Do you think he's asking her to marry him?" Edith asked. Thomas glanced over at the couple, Mr. Crewe held Lady Mary's hand, both were blushing pink to the tips of their ears as they walked.

"Either that, or he's told her a naughty joke."

"Thomas!" Edith gasped with a laugh. She tucked the blanket over Anthony before setting him down on the quilt beside her.

"Either way you've picked a pretty spot to do so," he said with a wink and a smile. She gave him a look, trying to be scolding. Her pale hands reached for the food basket, selecting an apple and knife. Seeing her shake, Thomas took it from her. "Let me," he said. Shifting forward a little on his folding stool he began to peel the apple.

"Does it show very much?" she asked quietly. He glanced over at her.

"To me, but then I've always known you better than most your ladyship."

"Mama mustn't know," she said. "Nor Papa or Mary, not even Mary," she corrected herself.

"What about Lady Sybil?" he asked, carefully so as not to cut himself he began cutting slices of the apple before handing them to her.

"I don't know yet. Sometimes I think I shouldn't bother even her with my woes, I don't seem to bring anyone good news these days."

"They're your family, they'll want to know the truth one day," Thomas did not mean to warn her, only remind her that families like to know. "Doctor Clarkson said-"

"I know what he said," she interrupted. "I think I knew it before he even told me what my health has amounted to." She looked at Anthony asleep beside her. Reaching her cool hand out, she stroked his soft cheek, sighing. "Knowing he is safe, that's what counts." Thomas' hand came over her's.

"You count too," he said. Edith looked up, finding he was looking back at her. He sat back, lowering his gaze. "You always counted for me, and I'm certain your family would want to know."

"It seems like I only bring them bad news," Edith said, squeezing his hand gently. "It's much better this way. Anyway Doctor Clarkson said I'll have a good comfortable life, so long as I don't exert myself, and I don't plan on it. I've become quite accustomed to the wheel chair. I never liked riding horses, I never mastered the bicycle, walking and reading have always been my pleasures." She seemed quite content as she spoke, her pale face held only a faint bloom in her cheeks, but her tired eyes did sparkle in the afternoon sunshine as she smiled at him. "And I certainly won't be lonely, not with Mary, and someday soon you as well."

"I'll have my own duties to attend to," he reminded her.

"Yes, but I'll be able to talk to you when I like, as it's my house. I talk to my friends as I please."

Anthony began to squall beside her. Thomas knelt picking the boy up and setting him in Edith's arms.

"There you see?" she smiled at the child, "We're already a good team,"

"Your Ladyship and I always were, do you remember the cricket matches, the big house against the village?" she laughed then, nodding. Safe in his mother's arms, Anthony stopped crying, contentedly gumming his fist.

"I hope I'll be able to watch him grow," she murmured. "Doctor Clarkson didn't say how long, I don't suppose he knew either…" she looked up at Thomas.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," he said before she could speak. "I'm here to look after you, and so is Lady Mary," he said. "So don't fret until there's need."

"But what if-"

"Never mind 'what ifs'," Thomas cut her off again. "Mind that you do as the doctor said, and you'll be alright, that's what matters. You're well enough right now, so be glad for that." Edith gave a sigh, ducking her head before nodding, giving him a half smile.

"Thank you, Thomas."

~O~

**Crawley House – That Night **

Sybil felt Matthew sit up in bed, his breathing labored. Without reaching for the light, she put a hand on his back, soothing circles over his shoulder blades. He wiped the perspiration from his face on his pyjama sleeve, sighing heavily.

"I'm alright," he managed, "Go back to sleep, I just – need a moment."

"Why won't you tell me about your dreams?" she asked. He shook his head, his eyes clenched shut. As if that made his visions all the more clear he rubbed them, blinking in the dark. Sitting up beside him, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as he began to tremble.

"You don't understand-"

"I would if you would tell me," she said. "Matthew, look at me, please-" slowly, he turned to face her, meeting her gaze only briefly. "I don't like seeing you like this, every night you fall further away from me, away from who you are."

"These dreams were supposed to stop," he said finally, and she realized he was crying. "They were supposed to stop, once you were pregnant…that's what your father said-" his hands began to shake again. The helplessness in his voice nearly broke her. He was frightened he would always be like this. Always afraid of what sleep would bring him, always afraid of noises and shaking and large parties. He could see the rest of his life stretched out before him as nothing more than a humiliating, exhausting anxiety attack. Sybil would be ashamed of him, their child would learn to explain away father's behavior, why he never went out, why his mama went alone to balls and the theatre. He'd sit alone in his office, waiting for the next moment that he'd be reduced to a shivering excuse of a man, afraid of dropped crockery and the sight of blood.

Cool hands covered his cheeks, and he blinked quickly, brought back to the present.

"Take a deep breath," her soft voice commanded him. He felt his chest expand, and he slowly let out a long breath. "Now shut your eyes," he hesitated. "Go on," she said, and he obeyed. "Tell me what you see."

Matthew was quiet for a long while. He knew right away what he'd see when he shut his eyes.

"Bodies, dirty boots, nothing is clean and there's the stench of sick and death everywhere." Sybil held his hand now, stroking the back of it lightly. His brow furrowed, "There's no way to bury the bodies, we can't move them out of the trenches because of the cannons overhead. The world is chaos and all I ever see is death and blood. The ground shakes until I feel sure the world will all fall apart and I'll never see Downton or you again." Matthew opened his eyes, looking down at his lap. He blinks, and tears at last roll down his cheeks. "In all my dreams, that is the worst, somehow, you're there, in all that wretchedness, you're there, and I can't protect you, every night I watch you fall away, the same as so many of my men did, only it's worse." He cupped her face with his one hand, weeping. "It is so much worse to face the thought that I can't protect you, that somehow, even here we aren't safe." She took his hand, kissing it. He felt her cheeks were wet, she had been crying.

"What do you feel?" she asked softly. He sniffled,

"Your lips," she shifted closer to him, taking his hand and placing it over her belly. He felt their child stir within, a gentle thudda-thudda against his fingertips. "A heartbeat," he choked out. She moved his hand again, placing it above her breast. He bowed his head, with great difficulty, he swallowed, eyes blurry with tears. "Your heartbeat." She placed her own hand over his,

"And there is yours," she replied softly. "When you have a nightmare, you have only to reach for me, and remember that I am always here, that dreams are only that, they can't hurt us if we don't let them." She smiled gently at him, "I know when you're ready to tell me about them, you will."

Slowly, he nodded, taking her hand he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm and wrist.

"Thank you," he said at last. He opened his arms to her, and she went to him, hugging him tightly. "I'll be fine," he said aloud. He took a breath, as slowly, realization struck him. "I'll be fine," he repeated. Sybil looked up at him, her face shining in the dark. She seemed to understand, and kissed him.

"Yes," she murmured. Perhaps not right away, perhaps he would have nightmares for a while more. But that night as Matthew fell asleep in Sybil's arms, he felt a faint, flickering warmth deep within him, like the steady flame of a candle, it burned within him.

_Hope. _

Hope that soon he'd be able to move forward, to stop blaming himself, to have a family as he always wanted to. He looked at Sybil, curled against him as if she were tethered to him. He kissed her gently, listening to her steady breathing.

Yes, he would be quite alright one day.

_The End_


End file.
